Daughter of the Woodland Realm: Tauriel's Secret Diary
by Anariel Redrose
Summary: There are whispers around Mirkwood that Prince Legolas Thranduilion has developed feelings for a particular red-headed Silvan elf. If he does so, Tauriel herself is oblivious. Certain events will occur that will test their friendship. Can Tauriel keep up with Legolas? Can she return his amorous intentions? How far will he go to prove himself? All told in Tauriel's very own words.
1. Prelude - Up Into the Night

Quick Note: Obvious disclaimer. I do not claim any ownership to Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit or any of the characters listed therein. Tauriel was created by Peter Jackson, whereas a slew of other characters were the mastermind of the late J.R.R. Tolkien. I offer my thanks to two such wonderful people to bring such a wonderful series to the big screen. And another thanks to Howard Shore, whose musical masterpieces inspire me as I write.

Prelude…

It was pitch black as I leaned against the tree trunk and gazed at the star glistening in the heavens. From age to age, my ancestors…my people had celebrated the pure, bright light of the stars that dance about in the heavens…in their celestial dance. I often came to this tree to get away from the monotony of great feasts in the banquet hall and engage in some quiet time. Days were spent carrying out the orders of my great King Thranduil, but my nights were my own, when I could be who I truly wanted to be. I so often sought the solace of peace and the pleasant blessings that it entails. Here I could dream my dreams…I could sing my songs to the stars…I could do whatever I wanted. Back inside of the kingdom, I was the Captain of the Guard, something to be envied and admired but at times, I felt completely trapped. Here I could be me without thought of repercussion.

"Tauriel…" A deep voice uttered my name over the dark of the night. For a moment my heart had stopped and I had thought to myself, 'Is that my father's voice? Is he calling me?' Then I shook my head, chiding myself for such a ridiculous thought.

"There you are." It was Prince Legolas's voice, his expectant tone from the sound of it. Clearly he had expected to find me here, as he often had done. On a couple nights, the two of us would sit in this tree and talk about the tales of our people, the tales of our ancestors. He was my friend but I never forgot that he was my prince above all things. I owed him allegiance and respect. It was never that way with our other friends in the Tirith o Taur or "Guardians of the Forest". I could tease them, play jokes on them, and laugh with them. However, whenever it came to Prince Legolas, I always was on my best behavior.

"Of course I am here, mellon. Where else would I be?" I sounded a little standoffish but oddly warm at the same time. He stood next to me, his lean frame shifting to relax against the sturdy trunk of the oak tree as he glanced at my opened journal.

"What is that you have there?" He motioned, quirking an eyebrow as he often had a habit of doing. Before either of us could bat an eyelash, I slammed the book shut and quickly stored it away in privacy.

"Something that is private." I was quick to respond then changed the topic of the conversation, adding. "What transpires in the great hall this night?" Legolas smiled in a way that he often did, his lips curling a little, shaking his head slowly, "You are missing such a great evening. Laerorn and Brethil are in a contest. The loser will have to clean the boots of everyone in the Guard."

"That is absurd." Was all I could bring myself to say, laughing quietly.

"I make my way back to the great hall. Will you come?" He spoke to me as a friend, not as a prince speaking to a subject. I paused for a moment then nodded slowly, "Yes. I will be there soon." With that, he pushed himself away from the trunk of the tree then nodded at me, smiling as he made his descent from the tree, leaving me very much alone.

I smiled to myself as I thought, 'What a blessing it is to have such friends.' I carried my journal within a pouch beneath my attire, careful to keep it tucked away. Although Prince Legolas was my good friend, he often was curious and wanted to know my thoughts…to know my secrets. I would reply to him that my secrets are for none but myself.

Recently I had become quite awkward around the prince. There had been rumors and whispers that my good friend had developed something more than friendly feelings…that he had become amorous. Quite frankly, it frightened me. No one developed feelings for me. I was a member of the guard…akin to "one of the men" as humans are apt to say. He had taken more of an interest in what I did and what I said. One thing was certain, no one would get a hold of my journal…not Laerorn, not Brethil, and most certainly not Prince Legolas.


	2. Entry I - The Sacrifice of Blood

Dearest Book,

My name is Tauriel and I am but a lowly Silvan elf, daughter of the woodland realm. There are secrets deep and dark in nature that I would never dare to utter to another of my kind. Secrets so deep and so dark that they haunt the realm of my dreams. The only ones that I can trust with my secrets are the beloved stars that linger above me when I cleave so lovingly to the great trees. Not only do I whisper my secrets and fears to these beloved friends...but I intone of my dreams. I have a great many dreams in my heart but alas...these dreams feel so far away, in a land of distant memory. Writing these words down in a book as poetically as I am able will not bring about the fruition of these dreams

Living in Taur-e-Ndaedelos or "Mirkwood" as the outside world has come to call it, I am accepted by all my fellow elves. Yet I feel such longing, such restlessness. I come from a long line of Silvan elves who hail from both Taur-e-Ndaedelos and Lothlórien. My father was like me "common as clay" as our beloved Aran, Thranduil often likes to say of me. My father was named Dûthalion, a hardy hunter and, from what I remember he was a courageous fighter. He was of middling height, possessing of a sleek build, and I remember his mass of long red gold hair as well as his sharp silvery eyes. It pains me to mention them…my parents. It feels strange even writing those words in Tengwar. However, I need to speak of this somewhere. I need to remember or I will forget. I need to remember where I came from…who I am…and what I am meant to do. Glaurlothiel was the name of my late mother, a tall golden-haired Sindarin elf with such sharp green eyes…my eyes. Her eyes were green…which is somewhat strange for a Sindarin elf but she looked every bit the noblewoman that she was. Unlike my "common as clay" father, she came from a long illustrious line of elven women who are well-known for their healing and weaving skills in the blessed forest of Lothlórien. However, noble of standing does not always equate to nobleness of mind…for my grandparents will have naught to do with me. It is rather to them that I had never existed but such is the sting of life. Should I dwell on it? Perhaps not…but time does little to erase the ache of heartless grandparents. I saw them but once and they mean nothing to me.

It is my parents who are the heroes of my life…my father especially. How is it that an elf of mixed parentage has come to the land of her father's forebears? Why am I not in Lothlórien?

When I was but a small elfling, an awkward little thing, I traveled with my parents through Mirkwood. We wandered through the woods, hastening towards the kingdom capitol, as my father was called by the Aran himself. It was indeed a great honor and we tarried many days in Lothlórien not long back. I had never before been to the land of my father and his ancestors…thus this was quite an exciting experience. Mother wore a gown of spun white silk, embroidered with pearls from the western sea - a family heirloom that she wore when she needed to appear more so regal than usual. The truth is that she was always so lovely, so splendid in her appearance. I am quite sure that my father and myself must have looked quite plain next to her natural radiance.

"Come along, iellig." Mother's smooth marble-white hand tugged at my own but I was far too mesmerized by the mysterious and labyrinthine world that was Mirkwood.

"Why do they call this place 'Mirkwood'?" I mused curiously, my childish mind not quite grasping the poetic manner of such words married to one another.

"Tauri...it is not proper to call it 'Mirkwood'. We call it Greenwood the Great because it is a great kingdom. Those humans are always so crass." She yanked at my hand, her tone chiding but as sweet as a songbird in early spring - heralding the death of winter. All around us, one could tell that summer was in her last moments, the jade and malachite leaves were now an undeniable burnished gold. Slowly, the descent of leaves transpired all around us, floating upon the chilly breeze like delicate swan feathers. I so adored nature, as I do now. It is all we elven folk live our lives around - basking in the enjoyment of the changing of the seasons. Even as a child, the majesty of nature was not lost on me.

"Nana...please stop calling me Tauri." I sighed, irked by such a silly moniker. I was only ten years old at the time, a sulky angry thing who imagined herself to be older than she was. I wanted so much for my mother to not treat me like I was a little girl, for I was not and I was determined to make that point.

"Listen to you two." Father piped up suddenly, having listened to our exchange in silence. His sharp gray eyes flickered over to where we walked, a warm smile tugging at his lips as he observed us.

"Like mother...like daughter." He had muttered and my mother gave him a knowing smile, almost daring him.

"Oh? As opposed to what, mell hervenn?" Her tone was as sweet as honey but rather saucy this time. Mother had that nature to her - sweet but sassy with just enough sarcasm to balance out my father's sternness. There were times when he was quite hilarious as well but he liked to appear vigilant at all times - as if he was waiting for something.

"Oh Glaurlothiel...you could talk the points off my ears." Father retorted in a rather cynical matter-of-fact nature, shaking his angular head from side to side. I thought about that for a moment...if mother had talked the points off of father's ears...then wouldn't that make him human? The thought frightened me for a moment because that means that father would grow old and die.

"But I don't want you to die, Ada." I piped up suddenly, reaching out for his hands. Father, a battle-hardened Elven warrior who had been one of Aran Thranduil's best hunters was never one for holding hands, but when his headache of a daughter was involved, he was glad to oblige.

"Is the capitol city as beautiful as they say? Is it glistening like a jewel?" I plied both my patient parents with questions, my mind swimming with an infinite number of odd thoughts. "Is it more beautiful than Lothlórien?"

Father guffawed at this and was about to interrupt before mother started in, "Not a chance, iellig. Not a chance. Lothlórien is unrivaled by any other kingdom."

"Now...now...hiril vuin." My father was quick to interject, very much defensive of his homeland and forebears. "Lothlórien with all of its golden leaves and swan-boats cannot compare to the wild mystery that is Greenwood. Our forest isn't so obvious and clean-cut. One needs to be of stronger mettle to survive here." Mother gave an overly exaggerated roll of her eye then stuck her pert nose in the air, "Lothlórien has more treasures than Mirkwood ever will."

"Good good...keep your treasures. I'll keep my mystery." My father waved his hand dismissively. He laughed a deep hollow laugh. For a moment I saw his features froze entirely and he slid a hand instinctively up to the bow that was strung across his chest. He froze.

"Yrch!" My father hissed, his sharp gray eyes wide with astonishment as he suddenly assumed an offensive stance. He turned to look at my mother, "Noro!"

"Û! Dûthalion...I cannot...I will not." My mother cried in response, her usually bright face darkened like a lamp gone out.

"Run!" Father gave my mother a push, booking no refusal. Staring back over my shoulder as we sprinted away, I saw my father as he had begun to repel the orc attack. There had to have been a hand full of orcs and only one him. My own eyes were blurred with tears as my mother grabbed at my hand in a panicked frenzy.

Truth be told, that was the last time that I ever saw my father alive. He fought off orcs so that we could live...he sacrificed his life for our own. Unbeknownst to my mother, the orcs within Mirkwood knew the paths better than she knew them. No matter how much we ran or how far we ran, three orcs caught up with us. One was as tall of as an elf, I had thought, with steel-gray skin, a rounded mushroom nose, and beady black eyes. The other orc was somewhat shorter with a rounded face that looked like part of it had rotted away, no nose at all, and two pointed ears. Was that an elf? I gave a small scream of surprise as the three orcs began closing in on us.

"You are in for it now, she-elf!" The tallest orc had hissed, his voice sounds earthy and frightening to a ten year old.

My mother in the quickest manner she could, gathered me in her arms and lifted me up to tree, "Climb!"

"But Nana..." I teared up and began sobbing, utterly terrified by this all. "I don't want to leave you."

"Tauriel...Asca! Gi melin...iellig. Gi melin!" She had begun to weep softly herself, tears cascading down her ashen cheeks as she pushed me up further. "Drego, Tauriel! Drego!"

The last words that she whispered to me were, "Don't look back...climb up until you cannot climb anymore. Drego!"

Not wanting to leave her there at the mercy of orcs, I quickly scrambled to climb as high as I possibly could. I followed a pattern of gaining a foothold with my boot, grasping a branch, and hoisting myself up as best as I could. Given that I was such a tiny little thing...I didn't exactly have so much luck. I heard a blood-curling scream beneath me and something told me that it was my mother. Weakly, I hugged the tree for support and wept if only for a moment. I knew that my assailants would soon be climbing the tree behind me or at least that is what I thought they would do. Carefully, I gripped the edge of a branch and used it to maintain my foothold as I transferred from one respective tree to the other. Glancing down, I saw how high up I was. I had to have been at least a mile off of the ground and I fought back a scream.

I could hear my mother's voice in my head, "You have to be strong, dearest one." It was something she would say and to honor her sacrifice, I had to try my best. If I was caught then it was all for nothing. For a moment I paused when I heard a cackle - it sounded like a witch's cackle. Glancing behind me, I saw one of the shorter orcs, the one with the strange head was gaining on me and he was eerily close. It was akin to something out of a nightmare, except it was real. There was no waking up and there were no consoling parents. It was only me, the tree, and the orc who wanted to harm me.

That was when I started to scream at the top of my lungs, "Help! Somebody! Edraith enni!" I wept profusely, desperate to find any assistance.

"Come heeeere little sheeeeee-elf." The orc had a combination between a witch's raspy voice and a gravelly one. With every step he took, I took another step onto the branch of a great pine tree. On normal occasions, I would have stopped to take in the beautiful view and to smell the scent of the fresh pine needles. However, in the present situation at the time, I was running out of space and the orc was drawing creepily closer. The orc had in its hand a crude long-knife that was smeared with all sort of gook and pollution. I knew so little of the orcs during that time of my life. Sometimes you look back and wish that you could have changed everything – that you knew then what you know now. No matter what we are…elf…human…dwarf…we are all of us entrapped by the haunting thought of "what if." What if things went better…what if I knew how to fight…what if…what if…what if…

As I was edging forward onto the edge of the branch, I realized with grave horror that I was coming to its end and that it was starting to lose its sturdiness. I knew that if I took another step that I would probably go careening down to the forest floor, plunging to my death. The orc began to laugh raucously like a madman, shaking his long-knife tauntingly, gleefully like a child almost. Chancing a quick glance at the closest tree, I noticed that it was rather far away from the branch that I was on and that I wouldn't be able to make it if I attempted to jump. That left only one option, to get hacked to pieces by an orc. Too frightened to do anything, I froze and closed my eyes shut, uttering prayers of hopefulness. However, the orc never reached me. In fact, I glanced up suddenly, saw that the orc had a nice-sized arrow straight through his body, and I witnessed him fall to his death.

I breathed a sigh of relief then froze once more, glancing around to figure out exactly who my savior was. Unfortunately, I saw nobody. All of a sudden, I felt arms wrap around me, holding me tightly as my savior leapt from branch to branch with perfect grace.

"Udulen an edraith angin." The voice whispered softly, gently. His voice for some odd reason gave me a little bit of comfort but I still trembled all over.

I clamped my eyes shut, trying to ignore the fact that we were well-nigh suspended in midair. When we had reached the forest floor, my savior set me down. I backed away, a bedraggled, weepy little girl with a tear-stained white face.

The person who had saved me was tall and sleek, his raven dark hair spilling down his shoulders in abundance. He was inspecting me curiously, his hardened face showing the smallest bit of compassion. He had motioned to me as he finally spoke.

"Are you all right, little girl?" He now seemed concerned when I only shivered, offering no response whatsoever. Unable to bear it any longer, I broke down in tears. The thought of losing my mother and father was completely unbearable. It was like I had lost a part of me, like an arm or a leg. A part of me that I could never regenerate or regrow. The sorrow was too deep. Two more figures emerged from behind the dark-haired Silvan elf. One elf looked to be a blonde Sindarin elf who wore some sort of ceremonial armor whereas the other elf sported chestnut brown hair and a simple tunic. All three of them were male…most likely battle-hardened males. In recalling that particular evening, I still feel the great pangs of sorrow but I remember with some hilarity how they reacted to me.

"This is Prince Legolas Thranduilion." The raven-haired young man motioned to the elf with such long flaxen hair. He then motioned to the brown-haired round-faced elf, "That is Brethil." Lastly, he pointed offhandedly to himself, "I am Laerorn. We are here to help you. You are welcome to Taur-e-Ndaedelos." When the blond young man finally spoke, his face blossomed into a smile, "Come, young one. We will take you some place where you will be safe."

Those words have been the defining words in my friendship with Prince Legolas over the years. He has always protected me and defended me notwithstanding the fact that it is supposed to be the other way around. On that day, I lost my family…two people that I hold so very dear to me, but I made a lifelong friend, one who I would gladly give my life for.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translations:

Ada – Daddy

Aran – King

Asca! – Quick!

Drego! – Flee!

Edraith enni. – Save me.

Gi melin – I love you [informal/familiar]

Hervenn – Husband

Hiril – Lady

Iellig – My daughter

Mell – Dear

Noro! – Run!

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great

Tengwar – Elven Script

Û! – No!

Udulen an edraith angin – I'm here to save you [informal/familiar]

Vuin – My

Yrch! – Orcs!


	3. Entry II - Reveberations of the Past

Dear Readers,

It would very much appreciated if you could leave a review or a comment. I am open to reviews, comments, suggestions, opinions, and constructive criticism. Should you decide to leave a review, thank you for your feedback as it is most valuable. Should you not wish to then thank you for taking the time to read my story.

I would like to extend an offer of thanks to the individuals at .net because their plethora of Elvish pages have been invaluable for this story. Thank you.

Warm regards,

~Anariel RR

Flashback – 600 years ago…

_"Don't cry, little one. I will fetch you some goodies...some sweets perhaps." Brethil reached over me and pat my head. His action caused me to plunge further into the sorrowful abyss of reality - the reality that my very own parents were dead._

_"Brethil...pe channas!" Laerorn jeered in an easy but mean-spirited manner. I would later come to realize the fact that everyone in the guard seemed to give Brethil a hard time because it was funny. He got so angry so easily, thus the appeal._

_"Me? Pe channas? Hah!" Brethil cried in protest, pointing his finger accusingly at his dark-haired friend. "Well I say to you...Ego, mibo orch!" Laerorn didn't even seem offended at that but burst out with laughter at the turn the conversation was taking._

_"Laerorn. Brethil. Focus." Legolas urged two of his companions, shaking his head slowly. When Legolas spoke in that authoritative tone, he meant business and expected his friends to adhere._

_"Of course, ernil vuin." Laerorn dutifully bowed his head, all hints of jokes or hilarity vacating his facial expression._

_It had been a couple days since the trio discovered me in the forest and they were able to divulge who I was exactly. After I had been consoled a little, they had brought me to King Thranduil himself. While Laerorn, Legolas, and Brethil were immensely warm to me, the King appeared lukewarm. When he had first witnessed me, Legolas had spoken that they had discovered me in the forest. King Thranduil wore the expression "why do you bother me with these matters"? He might as well have said "get this brat out of my sight" because his face wore a half-sneer. Shifting my green gaze between Thranduil and Legolas, I could easily discern that they were father and son - quite a fair pair. King Thranduil sat erect on his throne, long silvery-golden hair cascading down his shoulders in a bright waterfall with a splendid crown of branches atop the crown of his head. The crown was decorated with autumn leaves and holly berries. He looked beautiful and I was utterly mesmerized. The hue of his hair reminded me of my mother but I never made so much as a peep._

_"This little girl has lost her entire family to orcs. She tells me that her name is Tauriel." Legolas had said, his voice echoing around the throne room and beyond._

_"How unfortunate." King Thranduil had muttered unfeelingly but rather tepidly, his long clever fingers curled so carefully around his staff. "And what are we to do, pray?" He looked curiously at his son, his facial expression not changing at all._

_"We can offer her a home here. She assures me that she has no one left." Legolas was every bit my champion as well as my savior. If it wasn't for his bravery, his thoughtfulness, I am not entirely sure if the King would have agreed to let me stay in Mirkwood._

_"How dreadful." The King uttered, his face bearing an unpleasant expression as his gray gaze wandered over to me. He was not at all enthused by being bothered with deciding the fate of a little elfling. He was king and he had other more essential decisions to make. The destiny of a child was nothing to him. "Are you sure that this little maiden has no family left?" His eyebrows elevated as he made that inquiry._

_"Yes." Legolas responded, his gaze falling upon me before he glanced once more at his father. "Furthermore, her father was a hunter of Taur-e-Ndaedelos. She tells me that her father was born and reared here." Thranduil's face exhibited some real emotion for the first time ever - surprise. He sat up further in his throne, head tilted completely, "Is that so?" He shifted his head to face me as he finally addressed me directly rather than through his son, "Who was your father, child?"_

_"Dûthalion...a...a hunter, aran vuin." I stammered, frightened somewhat by the magnanimity of his person as well as the coolness of his veneer. From afar I had glimpsed the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn. The two of them were quite warm towards me, especially towards little children. During one of the Elven holy days, Lady Galadriel would give wondrous gifts to her people: sweets, beautiful toys for little elflings, and little crystals. I had remembered Lady Galadriel well for the gift of my little doll I named Giliel - named so for I loved the stars. The great Lady always beamed at me as if she was a star herself, so warm, so encumbering, so loving. I loved her utterly, almost as I loved my very own mother._

_The stone-faced King's face lit up further and he evinced some sort of astonishment, "Dûthalion was one of our best warriors. A fighter who was loyal to me above all else. A child of Dûthalion is welcome to live amongst us here in Taur-e-Ndaedelos."_

_"Dûthalion...I knew him well." Legolas interjected as he observed the scene, his piercing eyes shifting from his father to me. "A good man...quite the orc hunter." The prince had recollected to himself, his voice soft almost as a whisper._

_"Dûthalioniel." Thranduil had addressed me as daughter to my father, his face finally showing the smallest bit of warmth. "Live with us and become one of us. Who was your mother, pray?"_

_"Glaurlothiel, aran vuin." I replied mechanically, my hands trembling. The death of my parents fresh in my mind, I broke down in tears, unable to contain it any longer. That was how I came to live in Mirkwood...how I came to be…._

Present – Modern day…

Dearest Book,

I awaken from the dark recesses of shadow that spider webs across my mind. How is it to be borne? Of late, every day I seek the smallest bit of respite, if even for several minutes, and I am met with the vision of my parent's demise. It is all that I can see. I glimpse the sorrowing face of my mother, fair but darkening with trepidation. My eyes lock once more with my father as my mother forces me forward away from the orc rabble.

When I had pulled away from the dream state, I had dressed hastily, strapped my bow to my back, and escaped from my chamber as if it was a prison. For a Captain of the Guard, it is a step down from royal bedchambers, cozy but unneedlessly opulent. Wooden and marble trees construct the wall around my room, canopied together with leaves for the ceiling. I have always had this room ever since I came to Taur-e-Ndaedelos. It has been my haven away from other eyes, the place where I can record my deepest thoughts inside of a book. When I am near others, I need to be strong and tough, to put on a veneer of calm vigilance at all times. I like to think of it that I am carrying on my father's tradition of watchful vigilance. I am Dûthalion's daughter after all.

I need to step away from such mournful lamenting thoughts. What transpired in the past is in the past, as much as I try to remind myself of that fact. Part of me believes that I hold onto my losses as a way of attempting to cleave to my deceased parents. Yet I know that one day I will have to let go, to release it all.

At the present moment, I am nestled in a tree different from my usual chosen oak. This tree is a pine tree and its dark lengthy needles conceal me almost completely. I feel safe here...away from the eyes of the world. Here, I can reflect on my thoughts...on the happenings of my day. Now when Prince Legolas goes to search from me, he won't find me as he often does. I want the silence and the peace. Not that he brings chaos, but, of late, I have felt strangely around him. I feel those eyes upon me, searching my face for meaning...for purpose but I attempt to hide it all, as I always have done. Of all the six hundred years as I have known him, he had never once lingered, never once attempted to search out every thought in my mind. Now, he wants to know what I am doing...why people react to me the way that they do...why I do what I do. Why does Legolas take concerns in such things? He is now a mystery to me.

Later I am to go orc-hunting with the rest of the guard. We have been tracking a pack of orcs who have been attacking travelers through our lands and they have been trying to vandalize our ancient trees. We are to be ready by first light at the rallying point and then we will set out into the forest. None hunger for orc blood more than I! My sword Hathelas thirsts to put an end to cursed orc filth…to pierce through the very heart of an orc.

I shall write later but for now I need to prepare for the day. I shall bring along Hathelas, Cuvallorn (my bow), Egros (my bows), and Telveg (my small dagger).

Tauriel

Sindarin Translations:

Aran vuin – My King

Cuvallorn – Crescent of Mallorn

Dûthalioniel – Daughter of Dûthalion

Ego, mibo orch – Go kiss an orc

Egros – Piercing Rain/Thorn Rain

Ernil vuin – My prince

Hathelas – Leaf blade

Giliel – Daughter of the Star

Pe channas – Idiot/Moron

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great/Mirkwood

Telveg – Silver thorn


	4. Entry III - The Birth of a Quest

Dear Readers,

I've another chapter for you. I hope that you enjoy it. Again, I thank you for your support and for your time in reading my stories. If you could kindly leave a review, it would be appreciated. By reviews, I can see if what I am writing is favorable or not. That, and I really would like to hear what you have to say.

Thank you and happy New Years!

~Anariel RR

Several days later…

Dearest Book,

The orc hunt was not as much a victory as I initially thought it would be. In truth, I haven't written because I sustained grave damage during the fight. It almost killed me. Brethil had said, "If it were one finger's length closer your heart…you would no longer have walked these woods." Inside, I was furious, for I have always been a good and careful fighter. When I was struck by the orc with a morgul-blade, I immediately blacked out before I was able to register what had occurred. From what I have been told, members of the guard conveyed my body back to the great hall and it was there that I was healed. The healers of Taur-e-Ndaedelos are proficient and amazing in their skills. I felt safe in their hands.

The only person that I am disappointed in is myself. It took me hundreds of years to transform my body into a weapon, to better myself so that I may fight like Prince Legolas. Following the event that occurred, King Thranduil ordered that I remain within the capitol so that I may recuperate. I dearly hope that our beloved King hasn't become to question my competence and skill as a leader of the guard. I worked so hard, eking out a living as a fighter in order to propel myself high into the graces of our king. The expression upon his face worried me. If I wasn't Captain then who would be? Laerorn or Brethil? Would Belegorn be awarded such a place of honor? I have striven to prove my worthiness, to prove my abilities far beyond that sluggard of a creature, Belegorn. All in Mirkwood know well that he desires my position but I will not surrender it without a fight.

When I had been completely healed, I was approached by one of the dearest of my friends, Ninimmien. She happens to be the only female with who I am close and she is quite an adept healer. We met when I was once a healer in the House of Healing many centuries ago. Consequently, Ninimmien is pledged in love to Laerorn and they are to one day wed. Many happy tears shall be shed when Ninimmien officially becomes the bride of Laerorn, when she begins her life as his lady. Ninimmien is a Sindarin elf of high standing whereas Laerorn is as Silvan elf, like me, who has raised himself to the position of a lord. He was formerly the Captain of the Guard before he relinquished his role for quieter pursuits, namely reading books. When I was in my bedchamber and Ninimmien had knocked on the door, I obligingly let her in. Her face was awash with color, her silvery golden hair a splendid waterfall in comparison to the deep pink hue of her flesh. She seemed agitated or excited about something. Knitting my brow, I stared at her quizzically, my mouth hanging open a little.

"Is all well, Ninimmien?" I inquired hesitantly, motioning over to a seat in an inviting manner. I was momentarily reminded of my mother's little etiquette lessons on being the "perfect hostess" but did not mention that at all. When Ninimmien was settled in the seat, slightly soothed, and I had offered her a goblet of honey-wine, she turned her gaze on me suddenly.

"Well? What is wrong?" I urged, blinking slowly as I myself became frustrated by her silence. "Mellon, tolo na naur. It is warm over here." A fire had already been blazing in the fireplace where I had been sitting for some time, diligently reading a book for the longest while. I settled into that chair then studied her curiously.

"We are betrothed, Tauriel." Ninimmien cried excitedly, dangling her bedecked hand before me. My mouth fell open as I regarded the jewel – a mass of diamond within a gold band, surrounded by small milky white pearls. It was beautiful, something of a dwarven semblance. "And…the King has consented." She laughed but her words astonished me.

"King Thranduil has given his consent?" I muttered dumbly, astonishment still written all over my face. "Can it be so?" It struck me as odd that a Sindarin pure-blood (or at least he attempted to appear that way) would allow such a match to be take place. It was honestly strange because, although he had great compassion for the Silvan people, he made a habit of pointing out that _he_ was Sindarin.

"Yes, my dearest friend. We are to wed on Mereth Nuin Giliath." She promulgated triumphantly, as if she had won a great victory over a terrible evil. "Love shall prevail."

"Oh Ninimmien…I am so happy for you. This is so exciting…such a blessed happening." I declared, managing a smile despite the fact that a small part of me felt sadness. Only within the pages of this book can I confess my loneliness as well as my fear of being alone in general. It feels as if I am constantly surrounded by so many wonderful friends but at times my heart seeks 'the one.' When Lúthien Tinúviel, the fairest of all Elvenkind fell so madly, so irrevocably in love with the human Beren Erchamion, love was made incarnate. The love that they shared for one another, I hope one day to feel for another. Yet, in my position as Captain of the Guard, I've no time to focus upon any who have interests in me or the pursuit of love. Am I to spend the rest of my life very much alone? Such is a riddle that may never be solved.

"You look sad, Tauriel. What ails you, my friend?" She frowned for a moment, her fair countenance exhibiting the tiniest hint of the sadness that burned through my green eyes. It is my purpose to be strong, to put on a brave face for others. Instead of telling my only female friend that my heart aches for love, I put a smile upon my face and replied, "Why nothing, Ninimmien. It is only that I feel anger over what transpired against the orcs days ago. I have failed…I failed in saving one of the members of the guard. We know that he wasn't slain but he is missing."

"Galhanar…it isn't your fault. If Belegorn had obeyed you and not wandered off, you would have been better prepared to repel the attack. King Thranduil will forgive you." She took my hand, her warm hand clasped around my cold one as I gazed into the fire.

"Yet I do not forgive myself…nor will I ever. Galhanar is godson to Thranduil our King, son of his most beloved friend. How do I make amends with such a failure?" I knitted my brow, sorrow swelling in my chest. Uttering such things was just short of saying: 'I am not worthy of being Captain of the Guard.' To do so was to admit defeat and I would never question myself or my abilities so openly. Some would call it pride or arrogance but I know full-well that it is confidence. As a leader, I must maintain confidence at all times, no matter what.

"I will find him before Mereth Nuin Giliath. I pray that the stars illuminate my way and brighten my path." I half-said, half-whispered. Ninimmien rose suddenly from where she stood, walking slowly over to me, shaking her head slowly.

"Tauriel!" She whispered, her voice chiding but at the same time, supportive, friendly. "You cannot. Our King has forbidden for you to adventure into the forest. You mustn't. What if you are caught doing such a thing?" Horror registered on her face. She knows that great punishment befalls those who cross our mighty Aran – the mercilessness that he possesses alone. I shivered at the thought.

"I won't be caught." I assured her, foolhardy as the first day I held a bow.

"I see that there is no convincing you, my dear friend. Prince Legolas will be most displeased with this." She had assured me in her most admonishing tone, sounding very much like a mother. "Especially after everything that happened. You should have seen the prince when you were wounded." I stared at her a moment, aghast, my whole face coloring quicker than the morning sky, "Ninimmien. Say nothing more."

Her silvery-eyes widened and a small mischievous smile tugged at her lips as she regarded me with slight amusement, "When you had sustained damage…it was the prince himself who helped carry you back to the King's Hall. He stood vigil by you until you recovered. He has deep feelings for you, Tauri. You know not the depth of his feelings but do not doubt what you hear."

"Alas, Ninimmien…Daro! I won't hear another word of it. Curse your tongue…I cannot bear it…it cannot be." I hissed through my teeth at her, so fraught with emotion as I studied her, my heart beating fast within my breast.

"You moron! Echuio! Prince Legolas does not keep company with just anyone. Many an elf maiden has developed feelings of an amorous nature…yet he has paid them no mind. Yet…you? He remained at your side when you were wounded…he desires always to be in your company. Fool! Fool! Fool!" She snapped at me, wagging her finger as she spoke her bothersome words. She was as a fly to me…a troublesome fly buzzing about in my ear, giving me no peace but only chaos and disorder.

"Never!" I returned, shaking my head as if attempting to convince myself of this fact. "If he harbors feelings for me…then those feelings will soon shift as the winds during Echuir. I cannot reciprocate those feelings…it is well-nigh impossible, mellon. Legolas is as a friend, a brother to me in childhood, but now a lover? Nay…it mustn't ever be."

"Such is your choice, Tauriel. Should you wish to ignore the attentions of a prince…then that is your choice. We will speak no more of it." She brushed her hands against each other as if to state that she was washing her hands of the situation. An awkward silence had set in and we uttered nothing for a minute or two. Finally, she started, "Tauriel…I have been your friend for centuries…you have looked after me…you have saved me from an orc or two…and you taught me how to fight. I am coming with you on your quest to uncover the location of Galhanar."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she interjected quickly, "I will book no refusal on this."

"Very well…that is your choice." I uttered softly, glancing around the room, slightly paranoid that we were being heard then continued. "Be ready just before dawn. We shall leave then. Bring with you weapons and healing supplies. We will be slipping out of here in the only way I know."

"There is no other way out of the King's Capitol but the main gate or…" Her face lit up, a smile now forming upon her lips. "The river…the river. Alas…I have discovered your secret."

"Please tell no one…discretion is our friend in this situation." I responded quickly, my tone urgent and careful. "Not even Laerorn…not even Prince Legolas."

"Of course…of course." She then burst out laughing, clapping her hands together as a delicious idea filled her mind. "Oh how cross Laerorn will be when he discovers I've gone into the forest without him. Surely he and the Prince shall come looking for us." She seemed delighted by the idea but I dreaded it secretly. Would Legolas catch wind of our quest quickly? He rarely sought rest and was constantly watchful when he wandered through the halls of the King's Capitol. Mayhap he would be drawn to one of the many banquets and parties that were held in the Great Hall. I prayed that he was too busy to even notice.

"I would desire that _not_ to occur." I retorted hastily, thinking for a moment then managed a small ghost of a smile. "If we succeed in our endeavor…we shall slip out of the city, find Galhanar, defeat the orcs, and return just in time for Mereth Nuin Giliath. The King always forgives and pardons prisoners during the high festivals…perhaps he will forgive us…or hopefully, our saving his godson will gain us membership back into his good graces."

"That is a long-shot. And I shudder to think of what will happen to us if we fail." She shook her head slowly then laughed softly for a moment, quite like a madwoman. "I cannot wait to give Laerorn such a fright. You know that the Prince will hasten after us as well. _What an adventure we will have._" Ninimmien elevated both eyebrows at once, giggling softly at the idea.

"Be gone with you, Nini. I will meet you an hour before the dawn…in the pantry." I whispered, a smile still lingering upon my face. I will not deny that my heart beat rapidly and that my stomach gave a leap of nervousness. The idea of two elves going out to hunt down a party of orcs is not just foolhardy but it is completely moronic. Anyone in the guard would shake their heads at us or even call us cretins, but I was determined. And when one is determined, if there is a will, there is a way. I breathed a sigh of relief when I closed the door and Ninimmien had departed from my bedchamber.

With the rest of my evening, I set to working packing all of my items within a pack. That included: Hathelas, Cuvallorn, Egros, Telveg, a bit of lembas bread that I kept handy at all times (one never knows what ill will befall oneself), a change of attire, and ensured that I had my best brown leather boots on. They were very well-made and were exceedingly comfortable. I knew before I had retired back to my bedchamber that I would have to make an appearance at the banquet that night. The banquet was to celebrate a partnership between the Elves of Rivendell and the Elves of Taur-e-Ndaedelos. It was a very impromptu affair but it still was formal enough to be presided over by the great Thranduil himself. Of course, Lord Elrond was in attendance as well as his two sons, Elladan and Elrohir. I kept to myself, sitting at a table beside Brethil as he belched from imbibing a little too much honey-wine. I wrinkled my nose as I declared, "Every bit as much a dwarf as those hairy rascals." Ninimmien, Laerorn, and Belegorn sat at the same time as well. However, Prince Legolas, the center of our little posse was situated at a table with his father and Lord Elrond, making conversation. I daren't lift my eyes to look up at him. Instead I fixed my gaze upon Brethil as if to make the implication that I showed him favor and attention.

"Methinks that Brethil could pass for a donkey." Laerorn always wont to torture our poor friend was quick to make the gibe, enjoying the dramatic responses by Brethil.

"Or even worse, a _man_." Ninimmien giggled as she spoke in her soft voice, akin to a tinkle of a bell in its substance.

"Well…Brethil is hairier than your average elf." I mused aloud in a thoughtful manner, tilting my head as I considered it. "But then again…as you, Laerorn. You sometimes look like a bear." Ninimmien cackled so hard for she thought this immensely funny, wrinkling her nose as she beamed at her betrothed. I thought to myself how much she is like a madwoman.

"He is watching you." She hastily mouthed the words before guiding her lips towards the lip of her goblet, sipping at her honey-wine. I sighed, the hairs on my arms standing on end as I simply stared down at my plate, regarding all of the leafy delicacies.

"I wonder if dwarves smell as unpleasantly as they look." Belegorn spoke suddenly in his baritone voice, catching us all off guard. Laerorn, ever the clever elf that he is, remarked, "Oh…so you aren't made of stone. I had quite thought that you were a troll in the sunlight." Belegorn is always the person to take everything as an insult, perceiving everyone to be against him – the slightest gesture could be seen as an insult by him.

"Watch who you're calling a troll!" He hissed through parted lips, her face furrowed with rage. Everyone at the table had begun to choke with laughter, some hiding it in their drinks and other in their dinner plates. It was Laerorn who laughed exactly in his face.

"Your betrothed will soon find himself on the edge of _Eithor_, speared like a pig on a roasted spike." I observed, giggling softly as I exaggerated the name of Belegorn's sword. He let everyone know that it was a mighty sword and a family heirloom.

"Ah yes…_mighty Eithor_." Laerorn rejoined, his face red with laughter.

"All bow down to the _mighty Eithor_." Brethil started in as well, thoroughly enjoying the fact that for once he wasn't the butt of every joke.

"What is this of Eithor?" Prince Legolas's voice broke through the wave of good-natured hilarity as it had set in moments before. We were all settled in our respective wooden chairs and quietly I cursed, as no one was sitting off to my right. Belegorn sat next to Brethil, who was to my left, and we had faced Laerorn and Ninimmien.

"Come join us, mellon." Laerorn cleaned up his act a little as he gestured to the chair off to his right. Legolas had lingered there for a couple moments before he settled gracefully and quickly into the seat directly adjacent to me. I wanted to scream. All of the things that Ninimmien filled my mind and, at that particular moment, it came filtering back to me.

"Belegorn is speaking of the merits of his mighty Eithor." Laerorn started then added. "You know…his mighty orc-stabber. That one he slays _so many_ orcs with." It was a known fact that Belegorn, despite the fact that he bragged at how great a warrior he was, had a dreadful fear of orcs for some reason. The whole table erupted into laughter, Prince Legolas smiled at that, his laugh throaty and not overly drawn out like our other companions. During that moment, Legolas offered the smallest and subtlest of smiles, his sharp, piercing gaze falling upon me if only for a moment. I smiled in return but quickly averted my eyes. I didn't want him getting any ideas. My eyes went wide as I stared directly at Ninimmien, who only turned a deep crimson red, giggling in response to my shock.

"Is your hair braided, Tauriel?" Legolas had finally posed the question when the laughter had finally died down. I froze suddenly, slightly frightened of this sudden question. Why was I frightened? I know not. Legolas isn't some wicked orc or a dreadful troll. There was absolutely nothing to fear from him because he has ever been my friend. However, I find myself in utter dread of this newfound attention. I had braided my hair in preparation for the quest that is to transpire in the morning because I always left it wild and unbound. The clothing that I wore was a fighting dress of deep hunter green with a large green cloak with gold embroidery on the collar. It was one of my more subtle and modest outfits.

"Why yes, ernil vuin. I am trying something new." It had to have been the weakest response let alone the weakest excuse. Ninimmien, the instigator that she was, winked at me then added, "I think that Tauriel looks ravishing." My jade green eyes went wide with fear, with astonishment. Stupid Ninimmien to stir things up for me.

"It looks very nice." Legolas declared as he smiled somewhat of a deeper smile, his gray eyes settled upon my own. I forced a smile upon my face then returned, "Thank you." I pat my hair self-consciously and glanced down at my plate, quite unsure of what to say. What was there to say? Was Ninimmien correct?

Brethil and Laerorn started in with one of their crude jokes. Ninimmien flushed a deep pink with both embarrassment and amusement but I simply shifted my gaze between Brethil and Laerorn. I was determined to avoid eye contact with Legolas. We are friends…that is that. No questions asked…whatsoever!

At the close of the night, well into the early morning, I excused myself to return to the bedchamber. The rest of our friends remains in the Great Hall, Ninimmien and Legolas included.

Thus here I am writing in my book within the confines of my safe, quiet bedchamber. We make for the forest in an hour. Part of me is frightened but I know this is right. We need to track down these orcs and we need to save Galhanar. It was under my watch that he was captured and it is natural that is I who saves him. In truth I find relief in the fact that my darling friend accompanies me. Ninimmien at time drives me mad with her antics but it feels so lovely to have a friend. I will write when I can.

May the blessings of our beloved stars go with us…may they guide us through darkness and through tumult.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translations:

Daro – Stop

Echuio – Wake up/Awake

Echuir – Stirring (An Elven season between Winter and Spring)

Eithor – Stabber

Ernil vuin – My prince

Lembas – Elven traveling bread

Mellon – Friend

Mereth Nuin Giliath – Mereth en Giliath/Feast of Starlight

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great/Mirkwood

Tolo na naur – Come to the fire.


	5. Entry IV - The Generosity of a King

Dear Readers,

Thank you so much for your thoughtful and caring remarks. I try my best to keep it as authentic as possible within my story as well as adding a little flair of my own writing. I hope that you all enjoy this latest installment. It involves mostly a flashback but sheds some light. Again, I would really appreciate any reviews…any questions, comments, concerns, et cetera. I would like to know if I am going in the right direction.

Thank you so much for your interest in my story and I hope that I have done some justice to bring to life the character of Tauriel. Thank you all.

Warmly,

~Anariel RR

500 Years Ago…Spring

_Before I came to the prominence of Captain of the Guard, I was a lowly member in the Guard and before even that, I was but a healer. I had worked for a time in the House of the Healing within Taur-e-Ndaedelos. It was the exact place where I had met Ninimmien and where our friendship had blossomed. Over the years, I scarcely had seen Prince Legolas and he made no attempts to converse with me. When we were somewhat forced by circumstance to converse with one another, it was cordial, to the point, and rather quick. It was the rudimentary "Le suilon"…which is the manner of greeting for our people…or we would politely ask "Manen ceril?" as we were taught to recite from our childhood. It was a litany of politeness and courtliness. All of Elvenkind of Mirkwood are taught some semblance of order and etiquette – not to the extent as our brethren in Lothlórien. We tree-folk, as we at times refer to ourselves, are of a wilder sort and we are not so as refined. All that I had seen of Prince Legolas was his distant form when he wandered in from a hunt or during celebrations of honor. It was rare to come across him. Of course there were many Elven maidens who craved his company, who desired so to be in his good graces. However, the Prince never exhibited any amorous attentions towards any person for as long as I had observed and known him. It was a strange happenstance because Prince Legolas was over a thousand, we knew. None could say that they were aware of his age. Some have chanced the guess of well-nigh two thousand years old to somewhere upwards of three thousand or something thereafter. Nonetheless, most Elves by the time that they had lived to be a thousand would turn towards forging some sort of amorous bond with another Elf. It is not a strange thing for the desire of proliferation, the necessity to breed an heir so that one is but a chain in a long line. And if the child is male, all the more the better…for they are greatly desired. It is the male child that leads our people, not the female children._

_While I had barely any contact with our prince, I had established a very quiet friendship with Laerorn, who had begun to fall beneath the love-spell of Ninimmien. Whilst she and I set to work healing our Elven brothers and sisters throughout the day, he would linger in the doorway. We Elves have a different way of expressing love than our Second-Born counterparts or the Dwarves. Our love is psychological, deep. As the immortal beings that we are, when we fall in love – we fall hard, emotions run deep with us. It was through Ninimmien that I was invited to attend a minor hunt within the woods followed by an impromptu picnic. This was to be a small affair peopled primarily by Ninimmien, Laerorn, Prince Legolas, Lord Berendîr, Brethil, and two of the Prince's bodyguards (Halchon the Strong and Tadion the Clumsy). It was quite awkward when I had first witnessed the prince but at a picnic, it was increasingly so. He was someone so greatly, so highly esteemed around us that I scarcely thought myself worthy to be in his presence. Unlike his Sindarin-purist father, Prince Legolas allowed himself to be adopted by the Silvan people – he accepted them as his own and we welcomed him. There were whispers of his own mother having been a Silvan Elf, but if such was the case, one could barely tell. He looked every bit the Sindarin. No one in Taur-e-Ndaedelos would even speak of the mysterious circumstances surrounding Legolas's mother, therefore I uttered not so much as a word._

_We had all set up a circle of torches and spread a blanket following a most victorious orc hunt. It had been my first orc hunt and I had hung back because my fighting skills were mediocre at best. I had always had a penchant for firing a bow and arrow, something that I excelled at even as a child, but I did very little to enhance the outing. Ninimmien knew nothing of fighting herself and hung back with me as our six stalwart and battle-savvy companions set to work annihilating orcs. They engaged in a dance of sorts, a battle dance in which they shined like stars. The foremost amongst the fighters unsurprisingly was our beloved Prince as he twirled in movement, possessing the grace of a lion on the offensive. His movements were precise and forthright. Ninimmien could scarcely keep her wits about herself, whispering quite irksomely within my ear, "See as ernil Legolas spins like thus. Oh how gallant he is. Ever so gallant." I nodded my agreement, simply folding my arms as we witnessed this battle of wills, this battle of survival. Watching those men, I did not sit there as most Elven maids would have done and fawned over the perfection of their masculine prowess. Instead, I realized that I wanted to do just that. I felt such a desire to fight, to move my body in such a way – to be able to survive without the help of a stronger male by my side constantly. It was quite rare for a woman to become a warrior amongst our people. It wasn't unheard of and it wasn't discouraged either…but neither was it encouraged. It was simply an avenue that was open to a female should she wish to attempt such a thing but there were expectations that the females would live a quieter life within the King's Court. Watching Prince Legolas, I kept my remarks to myself and simply gripped the bow within my hands. I was armed with a bow whereas Ninimmien brandished a smallish one-handed sword. It was by means she was to protect us should we be swarmed by orcs. There was very little chance of the orcs overpowering us, but we had to be ready. There were only a handful of them but we had to be prepared for any event. Although this was only sport for us Elvenfolk, we had to be wise._

"_Quick…Tauriel…quick. That orc is ready to attack Legolas. Hurry." Ninimmien whispered in my ear, clutching at my arm and digging her nails into it. I stared at her then allowed my jade green gaze to wander over to Legolas, who was in the midst of battle and yet his back was unprotected. An orc with a club lifted high above his head was charging at our Prince and I had to do something. Since I possessed the bow and arrow, it was up to me to make a move. The other males were busy repelling the orc attack. I did not think twice as I fit the arrow to the bow and aimed it directly at the orc, closing one eye to steady my sights upon the orc. When I had the orc completely in sight, as my father had instructed me, I let loose the arrow and witnessed as it whistled through the air, striking the orc clean through the crown of his head. Ninimmien burst into applause as if this was some monumental victory. I gasped for a moment, astonished that I still had such skill from a century ago. It appeared that all of those hours of practice with my father had succeeded to some extent. When all of the orcs had been successfully set down and we were all gathered on the picnic blanket surrounded by the ten torches, Prince Legolas looked directly at me. It is as if he was witnessing me for the first time, a pleasantly warm smile lingering upon his lips as he spoke the words, "Iston i nîf gîn. You are Tauriel, the young girl we saved from the forest those many years ago. I give you my thanks, saving my life today. Guren glassui." He positively beamed as he placed his hand upon his chest then just as quickly as the moment had happened, it was over. My heart was warmed by this and that was when my friendship with Prince Legolas began to take root. Conversation quickly turned to who had killed the most orcs during that day. Brethil asserted that he had slain 24, Berendîr felled 36, Halchon took 33 orc lives, Laerorn swore to the amount of 52, Tadion embarrassingly admitted to only 10, and Legolas quietly stated 53._

_Laerorn added in a rather cheeky manner, "And Tauriel…1." He offered me a brief wink much to the chagrin of Ninimmien who gave me a sharp jab in the side. Had I not been maintaining my countenance of calm, I would have chided her or inquired as to her purpose of such an action. She giggled at me then let it go. The rest of the afternoon was spent in a cheery manner in such a way with good friends, great Dorwinion wine (that at times caused me to lose my wits), and plenteous delicious dishes._

_When we had returned to the King's Hall, Prince Legolas motioned to me in a casual manner, "Tauriel…Aphado nin." I looked at him quizzically, my face growing increasingly pale as I studied him, "Have I done anything wrong, ernil vuin? Have I done anything to offend?" He waved his hand dismissively, his smile gentle and his tone deep but calm, "No, mellon. I assure you that you've done no wrong. Tolo." He made his way towards the King's Throne Room and I began to feel great trepidation for rarely was I ever in the King's presence. I wasn't worthy enough to polish his boots let alone converse with him. Only the mightiest and the most important of the King's subjects were granted admittance into the Throne Room. Now that Prince Legolas had spoken with me, I froze because I didn't quite know what to do. When he had seen that I wasn't moving, he laughed and uttered kindly, "Tolo…__An ngell nîn." Comforted by his smile and his laugh, I nodded then followed in behind him, walking fast enough to keep up with his strident pace. When we had reached the King's Throne Room, Legolas instructed me to wait at the apex of the staircase, a little way from the King's guards then strode over to his sitting father. I remember that it was high Ethuil at that time, therefore our King wore in his crown the loveliest pink blossoms, the petals tinged with the tiniest delicate strip of red at the points. The pink and red contrasted with his silvery eyes, his silvery mane, and his marble-white flesh. Noticing all of the splendor in which the King was arrayed, I suddenly felt quite self-conscious of my simple frock that I wore. It was a soft green silk dress with lacing up the front, something that minor Wood-Elves wore during celebratory events. There was a great deal of silver and gold embroidery work, my own work. The dresses I wore were of my own creation, comfortable, durable, and quite presentable but nothing to the King's ensembles of velvets, satins, damasks, and watery silks. I looked a peasant to his regality._

_Legolas afforded his father great respect, slightly bowing his head, "Aran vuin, ada. I am come to convey to you a most chivalrous deed this day. A deed by which my very own life was saved in the midst of an orc attack." King Thranduil, who grasped his oaken staff greedily, eyed me for a moment, his piercing gray gaze searching my entire person for any sign or hint of a dubious nature. When he had judged that I was no threat and that I most likely had very little intention of vying for his son's hand, the smallest hints of a smile formed on his lips, "Young maiden, tolo." That was all her could mutter as he lifted a single forefinger and crooked it, gesturing for me to step closer. My head was already bowed as deeply as I could lower it and glancing up for a moment, I took a step closer._

"_And what is your name, pray?" King Thranduil queried, his silvery gaze as penetrating as that of his son. Just being in his presence filled me with awe and I was largely frightened by this. What did Prince Legolas hope to do by such a thing? What was there to gain?_

"_Tauriel Dûthalioniel, hîr vuin." I kept my head bowed, determined to show this King that I knew my place. He disliked upstarts who desired to propel themselves into the highest rungs of society, especially if they were Silvan Elves._

"_Please…arise." King Thranduil smiled and gestured as I lifted my head. I was sure to keep my eyes low nonetheless._

"_You have done your king and your realm a great service, Tauriel. You have saved the life of your prince. For services rendered, tell me what it is that you desire and I will see to it that you receive it." His voice boomed through the well-nigh empty Throne Room as it echoed throughout the rest of the caves. His fingers were encircled around his staff as he held it tightly, his face intense._

"_An ngell nîn, aran vuin. I ask for nothing." I replied quite humbly, unsure of what to even ask for. The fact that he had allowed me to remain within his realm, eking out a quiet life was joy enough. I couldn't think of asking for anything._

"_Tauriel…" Prince Legolas spoke my name, his voice soft and smooth as the petals of a spring blossom. "Av-'osto." His urging gave me the courage._

"_I am a generous lord and I like all of my subjects to overflow with gratitude. For those who prove their loyalty by saving the life of my very own son, I desire to repay then richly. What is it that you desire?" He boomed a second time, determined to have the question answered._

"_To fight, aran vuin. I am but a healer now…but I desire to drive orc filth from our lands." I spoke softly, my voice could have been that of a mouse._

"_Is that your desire then?" He queried with both eyebrows elevated. I could tell that he was deeply perplexed by the expression that he wore upon his face, because most Elven maidens asked his permission to marry a sweetheart or for some precious bauble. Rare was it for an Elven maiden to even think of fighting._

"_No, aran vuin." I replied robotically, pondering as to what he would promulgate towards me._

"_Forthwith, you are no longer a healing maiden of the House of Healing…but a member of the Guardians of the Forest. If it is fighting that you desire then fight you will amongst the best that our realm has to offer." King Thranduil arose from his throne and spoke the following words. "Do you offer your total loyalty to me as your sovereign and king?"_

"_No." I returned right away, completely excited by the sudden turn of events. "I do."_

"_Do you promise to abide by my rules and my laws at all times? To set my rulings above your own desires and thoughts?" He continued, sounding quite official and authoritative._

"_No, I do." I repeated._

"_Do you promise to offer your life in return for the protection of our realm, for the protecting of your king, your prince, and for the betterment of Taur-e-Ndaedelos?" He spoke the last words in a slow manner for they bore such gravity to them. This wasn't some joke, some easy promise to make. This was my life we were speaking about. It was my existence._

"_No…" I uttered the single word then nodded slowly._

"_That settles it then…you are now a member of the Guard." He replied calmly as he made his way across the Throne Room. "I am quite sure that Prince Legolas will see to your training."_

"_Le fael, aran vuin." I bowed low as I spoke the words but he had already turned around and wandered away from the room. I remember the day like it was yesterday. I wanted to scream, to dance around like a madwoman, and to rejoice but I remained calm, cool._

_The last thing I remembered of that time was Prince Legolas beaming at me as he uttered, "Congratulations, Tauriel. You came to such a membership through your own courage. The Guard will be glad to have you."_

….

Present Time – Autumn

Dearest Book,

I cannot write long for I am with Ninimmien constantly. She questions what this book is every time that I touch it. Oh how bothersome she is! Why did I think of inviting her along? Why did I not keep my plan to myself? There is a chance that we may have been discovered but I will write more about that later. Until then, we are adventuring off to the west towards Emyn-nu-Fuin. Our plan is to set upon the goblins that make their homes there in hope that we can glean information from them. When I mention "gleaning information", I do not state that it would be a pleasant process or a peaceful one. I hope that the stars are with me, lighting my path for I have been on the run for two days.

All I can think about is the words that our beloved King uttered to me when I was inducted as an initiate into the Guardians of the Forest, "_Do you promise to abide by my rules and my laws at all times? To set my rulings above your own desires and thoughts?_" These very words haunt me now as I think of my betrayal. Yet my conscious wins out in the end. I will not forgive myself if I cannot recover Galhanar. I hope and I pray that we can save him. Ninimmien, cheery as she always is, jokes, "If we cannot save or find Galhanar, we can always go with plan two." When I inquired as to that, she continued, "We will set upon Dwarves instead, steal their quarry and offer King Thranduil a gem the size of a dragon. Then not only will he forgive us…but he will be eternally grateful." Oh foolish foolish Ninimmien.

It is my turn to search for firewood now, thus I must stop writing. I shall write next time and recount every tiniest detail of our escape.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translations:

Ada – Father

An ngell nîn – Please / Literally: For my joy.

Aphado nin – Come with me

Aran Vuin – My King / Beloved King

Av-'osto – Don't be afraid.

Dorwinion Wine – Strong Wine with the ability to make Elves drowsy

Dûthalioniel – Daughter of Dûthalion

Emyn-nu-Fuin – Mountains of Mirkwood

Ernil – Prince / Ernil Vuin – My Prince/Beloved Prince

Ethuil – Springtime

Guren glassui – Thank you from my heart [Informal]

Hîr vuin – My Lord/Beloved Lord

Iston i nîf gîn – I know your face

Le Faul – Thank you / Literally: You are generous.

Le Suilon – I greet you [Formal greeting]

Manen ceril? – How are you? / How do you fare? [Formal]

No – Yes

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great

Tolo – Come


	6. Entry V - Into the Forest

Dear Readers,

Thank you for all of your thoughtful feedback. I am very much humbled by your words of encouragement and kindness. When writing this particular chapter, I followed the advice of Mikaela and added some detail about the surroundings. This was just a sampling but in the future, I am going to make a concerted effort to explain the surroundings more often. Mirkwood is a magical and enigmatic place after all. Again, thank you all so much for your continued support and it is because of your kind words that I keep writing.

Now, this particular chapter is a little on the darker side but, going ahead, be aware that this story will become darker. Hope you enjoy. See you all in Emyn-nu-Fuin.

Warmly,

~Anariel RR

One day later…

Dearest Book,

The past three days were hectic at best. On the morning whence Ninimmien and I were to vanish swiftly into the woods, we were found out. Our discoverer is one of the foulest Elven lords amongst those of Taur-e-Ndaedelos, a true snake in every fashion. He is quite tall, almost as lanky as our King but a finger's breadth shorter. With such sharp angular features, his waterfall of night-dark hair, and his clever blue-gray eyes, he would be declared a handsome youth. This male has the heart of an orc, the cleverness and wit of a madman. He goes by the name of Lord Bregoliâr, a mighty Sindarin Lord amongst the retinue of our King and higher in favor than I am with our mighty monarch. When I was inducted into the Guardians of the Forest, this very same individual scoffed and had made the remark, "An Elven maiden? On the Forest Watch? What next? Are we to allow elflings to join?" King Thranduil at the time smiled slightly but his features seemed largely going through a change of emotions. Was he regretting his decision?

Throughout my career as Captain of the Guard, an elevation that occurred two hundred years later, Bregoliâr openly evinced his disapproval. There was a situation when he had slighted me at a great banquet in the Great Hall and Legolas, ever my friend, rallied to my defense. His manners were overly atrocious and largely lacking.

On the morning when Ninimmien and I had donned two cloaks, darting along the passages upon our tiptoes with such great care. Being Captain of the Guard, I was well aware of the guard changes as well as who had what shift. Caranor stalked the halls quite carefully nearest to the tunnel that eventually led to the pantry and wine store. He held within his seasoned and clever hands, an elongated spear that he had taken to calling "Orch-Orthoror", something that he had taken such pride in. Around us, the sandy-hued walls of the waves glistened with the reflection from the river waters the gurgled below. I chanced a quick glance from around the corner, glimpsing the archway into the tunnel, which was crafted of such splendid stone in a knot-work pattern. It was silvery-gray whereas the walls were their sable color. Upon the walls were designs rife with Elves, carved in the stone. Some designs exhibited an Elf bearing a harp, his fingers skilfully strumming as his mouth was open, seemingly singing a song. Around him rested several young Elven maidens who smiled as well as other maidens who looked to be engaged in some sort of quadrille. Their hands were joined carefully. From the strong imagery, it was obvious that this mural celebrated the arrival of spring, but I had very little time to focus upon such things. Gazing up in the sky, I cloud glimpse a small sliver of moon, silvery and providing bounteous light for such a tiny thing. When Caranor had walked carefully down the halls, inspecting well-nigh every corner, every crook, and every cranny, I motioned to Ninimmien. Immediately we made for the tunnel and, with success, we fled as quickly as we could. We had attempted to maintain an air of silence yet a quickened pace which appeared to be nearly impossible. Ninimmien had not my sure-footedness and agility, but, by the stars, she tried. It was when we hastened down the tunnel and into the pantry in the bowels of the city that we encountered a great problem. Peeking my head around, I saw that the pantry was empty, so we snuck cautiously from the chestnut-paneled room and into the wine store. As usual, Galion (the King's Butler), Thangur (the King's Steward), and the rest of their underlings were fast asleep at the table. There had to have been four or five of them. I was frightened so I did not have time to count or recount them.

"Got into the Dorwinion Wine again." Ninimmien always wont to making a joke whenever she could squeeze one out. I grew quite annoyed of her, giving her a look. She realized that she was the only one laughing then whisper, "Sheesh…sore thumb" then she had finally shut her mouth. We all knew that the Dorwinion Wine was such a heavy vintage wine that was well known for its potency as well as its destiny to rest upon the good King's table. Galion, Thangur, and their team were always quick to sample the best for themselves. If King Thranduil had known, he would have been furious. All of a sudden we had heard footsteps behind us, and Ninimmien, who was half concealed as it was, hastened into a corner. She hid her form behind a large stack of barrels. Unfortunately, I was unable to scatter in time because just as I spun around, I was met with the sight of the wicked Bregoliâr.

"Tauriel Dûthalioniel…the Elven maid who deserves _not_ to be the Captain of the Guard. Why come you here down into the wine store?" He half-sneered, half-smiled – an ugly combination at best.

"My purpose for being here concerns you not, Lord Bregoliâr." I replied a matter-of-factly, attempting to hide the fact that he creeped me out even the slightest bit. Notwithstanding the fact that he was good friend to the King and a high-standing Sindarin Lord, I was not impressed by his reputed beauty or his show of arrogance. He was yet another individual who was always one to flaunt his wealth and his rank before others. It was whispered that the Lord only rose to favor because he had obtained for our King, a chest of splendid gems and treasure. It was all hearsay and no one actually glimpsed the chest, but it was still spoken of or whispered about.

"Oh does it not, now? What are you? A lowly Silvan Elf…but I am a great Lord of the King's Court and Council." He scoffed at me, wagging his finger in my direction. I glanced around swiftly to ensure that Ninimmien was well concealed behind the barrels because at times she was known for her clumsiness. There was an unpleasant cacophony of snores in the background, unwanted and unwelcome music outside of Bregoliâr's authoritative baritone.

"Well, Hîr Bregoliâr…I am sure we are more than well aware of the fact that you are great and mighty in this land. Yet none are as mighty or majestic as our King." I spat at him in response, my own eyes narrowing. "Great is your name and your lineage…yes…yes…I know all of this. But Aran Thranduil is the bright glistening star in the heavens and you are but a snake in a garden." His eyes widened at this pronouncement and he reached out, grasping my arm then squeezed it ever-so violently, "A snake am I? Hideous Silvan half-breed!" He hissed the last words, his judging eyes were more apparent now as they bore into me.

"Unhand me, pe-channas!" I was quick to reply, attempting to wrench my arm free from him but he held me tightly. Quickly, he raised a jewel-bedecked hand and struck me clean across one of my cheeks.

"Never…" He hissed once more, very much the snake that I described him to be. "Why do you not love me? For I desire you so…all I want is your love. Don't you understand that you force my hand? You force me to say such things…for I have ever desired you so. From the moment that I glimpsed you…" At this, my own eyes went wide and it was well-nigh impossible to conceal the astonishment written all over my face like lines in a book.

"Enough! You madman…I would never choose _you_. Not even if you were the only male in existence." I retorted quickly, sliding Telveg (my dagger) out of its clandestine place within my cloak and slid it carefully up to his neck. We Elves have survival abilities unlike no other species in Middle-Earth but it is well-nigh impossible to walk away with a slit throat.

"Release the arm." I whispered softly, pressing the blade carefully up to his gullet. It was so close that I could hear the subtle sound of the blade upon his smooth skin. It wasn't a pleasant sound by any means. Reluctantly he removed his grip from my arm then I whispered, "Now…back up." He did just that, giving me the most annoyed expression, his bright eyes narrowing as he regarded me with distaste.

"You are making the wrong decision, Tauriel. You do not know of what I am capable." He spoke once more, both hands raised in the air as I kept Telveg aimed directly in his direction. "I have the power to destroy you. One word to Aran Thranduil and you are obliterated. You are back to being a lowly healer in the House of Healing. Remember, girl, that I have his ear." I hesitated for a moment and thought: 'What if he is right?' Gnawing upon my bottom lip, I thought of my friend and my champion, Ernil Legolas who would aid me no matter what. He was my friend through and through. He wouldn't suffer such a thing to occur. While Bregoliâr was close to the King, Legolas was closer.

"I think I will take my chances. Keep backing up." I whispered, motioning him away towards the barrels. "Go on." As if out of nowhere, Ninimmien's bubbly rosy face appeared and within her hands was a large bottle with the white Dorwinion label. Seemingly without a second thought, Ninimmien grinned as she lifted the bottle and brought it low upon Bregoliâr's head, and he in turn collapsed immediately to the floor. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was never one to want to harm others but I was willing to do whatever it took to repel the advances of that hideous Bregoliâr. Ninimmien had given me a sorrowing look as I assumed that she had overheard every detail of our conversation. With that being said, I instructed her to wait there. I made my way over to the trapdoor by which we empty barrels into the river for the Elven raft to collect, quickly locating the lever. Without a word being said but a little creaking of the wooden lever being pulled back, the gaping maw in the floor finally opened up to reveal the gentle river below. It was a river that started out as gentle but eventually became quite ferocious before emptying out into the Long Lake, where Men made their home. I glanced around one more time, gnawing gently on my lip as I pondered over my actions and what evil would come of it. Most certainly I would antagonize the King and possibly Prince Legolas but I had to try to salvage the life of such a great warrior as Galhanar.

"ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE!" Bregoliâr awoke suddenly and started to shriek loudly, his voice booming throughout the wooden wine room. It was stock-piled full of barrels of wine as well as other wine casks which did little to conceal my friend or myself.

"They are getting away…eruio, you fools! The women are getting away…Tauriel the Captain of the Guard is wilfully disobeying the orders of her King. Stop her!" He continued with a shrill screech now causing all of the snoring wine-imbibers to wake up in a flash. Golian's face registered confusion as well as a great deal of shock because he and I only had positive interactions before this one.

"Asca, Nini." I called and before anyone could bat an eyelash, she had jumped through maw into the watery depths below.

"Lhûg!" I declared as I regarded Bregoliâr one more time. "Never touch me again or so help me, I will strike you down where you stand!" He was scrambling to his feet or at least attempting to while the four or five other males swarmed over to us. With that, I jumped through the hole and we were gone.

Ninimmien and I travelled for a little while on the Forest River to ensure that no one was following us. We knew full-well that Prince Legolas and his men would be dispatched to follow us, which left us with very little time to get gone. Legolas knows me the best of most people and he knows how I think, which left the two of us at a grave disadvantage. We were able to scramble onto the southern shore of Forest River, populated by its twisted ancient beech trees gnarled with age. The trees of Mirkwood are ancient in nature, having existed far before the Elvenfolk took up residence here. Due to the fact that it is currently Iavas, the trees are a flurry of different colors, a collage of nature – scarlet, red-gold, orange, bronze, burnished gold, and the ever-present emerald green. It was so lovely but unfortunately we had no time to tarry or to wander. By the path we were going, we knew that we would have to wander off to the west of the King's Hall which will eventually lead us to Emyn-nu-Fuin or what "the Mountains of Mirkwood" in Man-speech. Unfortunately this would lead us well into spider territory but the two of us are able-bodied warriors who can take up battle easily.

Ever since that unpleasant interaction with Bregoliâr, Ninimmien has attempted to talk about it but I won't speak a word of it. How can I? Bregoliâr has harassed me for a long time and won't leave me alone. It is dreadful and I have no one to tell. I never told Prince Legolas for I never thought it would end well if he knew and if I told anyone else, they would let him know. It is better that I bear this brunt myself.

"How many centuries has Lord Bregoliâr been bothering you? Why have you told no one of this?" She pestered, eager to know everything as she always was. She had quite a searching nature to her.

"Please let it alone, Ninimien. I would appreciate if you honored my wishes." I replied quietly, speaking no more of the matter. The expression must have warned her of my emotions, for she made no other peep.

Now we are three days from the King's Hall and not far at all from Emyn-nu-Fuin. We remain in the treetops and avoid the ground floor, because that would make us easily to track. One day until we reach Emyn-nu-Fuin.

I will write again when I can.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translations:

Aran – King

Asca – Quick

Emyn-nu-Fuin – Mountains of Mirkwood

Ernil – Prince

Hîr – Lord

Lhûg – Snake / Serpent

Orch-Orthoror – Orc Conqueror / Orc Master

Pe-channas – Idiot/ Lackwit

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great

Telveg – Silver Thorn (name of a weapon)


	7. Entry VI - The Impending Storm

Dear Readers,

This is the latest installment. It is rather long but I hope that you enjoy it. I hope that my portrayal of King Thranduil or Legolas are not too farfetched. Again, thank you for reading my story and should you have any feedback, I would absolutely love to hear it.

Please leave reviews!

Warmly,

~Anariel RR

Three Days Ago – Mirkwood

_ I will faithfully retell the tale of what transpired after my escape of the King's Hall (as I was retold it by Laerorn). After that irksome and monstrous Bregoliâr howled so loud that he awoke every individual in the wine storeroom, he went immediately for Belegorn. Belegorn unfortunately is my second-in-command and the fact that he was not too fond of me aided that cursed Bregoliâr in the odyssey of my destruction. It was a perfectly crafted machination of destruction, nonetheless. One could even argue that it was flawless. Bregoliâr told Laerorn thus, "Tauriel, Captain of the Guard spoke the words to me that she was deserting her role and that she was running away in order to free herself from Mirkwood or any promises she made our good King. Furthermore, before escaped into the forest, she set upon and slew poor Caranor as he was only doing his job. I witnessed it myself. She ran him through without a second thought. Perhaps it is the wild Silvan blood that boils within her poisonous veins. Knowing that she would be wanted as a fugitive and bothersome scofflaw, she fled before I could apprehend her." Laerorn searched in vain to speak with his darling Ninimmien but she was nowhere to be seen. I had often dismissed Ninimmien as an airhead at times but it appears that she was more wise and more clever than I ever gave her credit. Within her bedchamber, on the writing table where she often scribble down letters was the beginnings of an odd but incomplete riddle:_

_Of stones is my body,_

_My head lives in the clouds,_

_I am home to wretched filth,_

_Foe to Elves and Dwarves alike…_

_ When I had discovered that clever little Ninimmien had single-handedly blew our cover, I was beyond furious. He was able to figure out that she had meant the Mountains of Mirkwood. In a sense, she had betrayed me. Anyhow, I shall speak of such things at a later date._

_ Laerorn, who constantly consulted his Ernil Hîr, immediately hastened to the great bedchamber of Legolas, who was oddly present within it for once instead of stalking the halls. The great oaken doors were carved with a design of jade green ivy replete with spring blossoms of purest white, joined together in a sort of knot-work design. On the other door rested a similar emerald green ivy design that was interwoven with bits of purple autumnal blossoms. It was a most splendid beauty. Rarely was I ever called to the Prince's chamber myself, but I wandered by it quite a few times when conversing with the great King himself, thus I witnessed it quite a bit. The door handles were constructed of a sort of golden oak, which is found only within the realm of Lothlórien. Laerorn curled his hands into a fist and rapped his fist sharply upon the oaken door, unsure of whether to bother Legolas at this hour. It was known that the Prince rarely took rest because he was always alert but one never knew of his pursuits. For a young man of regal status, he was largely private unlike his father, who was open and exuberant. Legolas was quieter, more tranquil._

_ "Tolo ned." Prince Legolas's smooth velvety voice was heard on the other side of the double doors. Laerorn went on and on about the majesty of our Prince's room but I will not bother you with the details that do nothing to serve the purpose of this retelling. His back was to Laerorn, who simply walked in and bowed his head reverentially, uttering the deferential words of, "Ernil nín, I come to you with grave news." In Legolas's hand was a quill of a lovely white swan feather, most likely a gift of Lothlórien to Taur-e-Ndaedelos. He was writing something, focusing upon that as he responded to Laerorn, "No…man?"_

_ "Tauriel, Captain of the Guard and my betrothed, Ninimmien have run away from the King's Hall this morning. Not yet an hour ago. They have escaped despite your royal father's order for Tauriel to remain within the city." Laerorn's face had exhibited a sadness, a heaviness had weighed deeply upon his soul. His lady love and a woman he counted as his friend were now fugitive in the eyes of the Elven King's Court and Council. We were to be hunted and apprehended. According to Laerorn (what he told Ninimmien at least), "When Ernil Legolas turned around to face me suddenly, he scarcely had any time to shield the astonishment from his face. Even though he strove the best he could to mask the rage, I could see it deep behind those sharp gray eyes of his. Something about the expression upon his face caused me to shudder. It made me think: 'Rue to anyone who dares cross our prince.' When he had quickly regained his composure, he arose from his seat and turned about to face me for he meant business."_

_ "Asca, Laerorn, mellon nín. Ready the Guard for we are to adventure into the forest this day. We must hasten to find Tauriel before they encounter too much trouble." His tone was suddenly authoritative, more so urgent than usual, and he was quick to be gone, according to Laerorn._

_ "Legolas, mellon. There is more yet to be said." Laerorn added regretfully, his tone gentle but at the same time sorrowing. _

_ "No? Let us hear it then." Legolas had said, his face as frozen as stone but his eyes piercing more so than usual. Laerorn confided in Ninimmien (who can never keep a secret if she tried), "I have known Ernil Legolas for twelve hundred years and yet…never before had I seen him in such a state. There was a slight darkness about him…a determination and a readiness to be off in haste. Legolas, ever a being of the light, for once exhibited a sense of rage, a darkness of the likes of which I have never seen from him before. It struck me as odd."_

_ "Hîr Bregoliâr spins a tale of lies within your glorious father's ears… a tale of the Captain of the Guard (he daren't speak my name) slaying one of our men, Caranor the Sentinel. That she slew him and fled thereafter to live out her days as a fugitive amongst her own people, ever in shame and dishonor." He declared slowly at first but eventually continued in a somewhat reluctant manner. "The Councilor declares that he witnessed this entire deed and that he himself was set upon by Tauriel and Ninimmien. That they had a wicked motive concerning him…that they had desired to murder him. He speaks with your father now in the Throne Room…" Laerorn could barely lifts his eyes from the ground before him, so crestfallen from the turn of events, especially since he was to wed Ninimmien on Mereth Nuin Giliath. From what I had heard, many of the people were loath to believe the whisperings of Bregoliâr and Laerorn particularly had his doubts. According to Laerorn, Prince Legolas turned his back to him and simply uttered the words, "Go now and ready the men. We shall meet at the bridge at the close of an hour." Laerorn, happy to oblige (and sensing the stormy mood of our prince), bowed his head and set off bounding towards the armory._

_ Later on, Laerorn had heard the tale of what transpired between King Thranduil and his son, Prince Legolas. The following is a third-hand account of such a conversation between two magnanimous personages within the Throne Room of the King's Hall._

_ "It appears that our very own Captain of the Guard has betrayed us, ionneg. What fools we were to have placed so much trust within the hands of a murderess." King Thranduil had spoken the words rather bitterly, but his facial expression appeared largely indecisive at best. Laerorn believes that the King himself did not know what to think or what to make of the situation._

_ "Truly, think you that Tauriel would betray you in such a fashion? The Tauriel whose father loyally served you as hunter…the very same Tauriel who saved my very life…and who asked for nothing in return?" Legolas's words apparently were calm, well thought out and tranquil considering the situation, but his face was unenthused. "Hasty you are, adar nín, to condemn one who has proven her loyalty to you again and again." According to Laerorn, Legolas was ever my champion and hero once more, quick to rally to my cause despite the fact that all of the odds were against me._

_ "If Tauriel was loyal then would she not be here of all places?" He glanced around for dramatic effect, his face stern and furious unlike that of his calm son. "I commanded her to remain within the King's Hall and yet she has disobeyed my orders. What am I to think, Legolas?" All who were there had whispered of how loudly he was talking, almost as if he was yelling but not quite that._

_ "Aran adar nín…be not so hasty to assume that every word Bregoliâr utters is pure truth. I placed my trust in Tauriel and I continue to do so. There is a good reason for her actions." Legolas defended most ardently my name. Some had begun to whisper even more fervently than before, 'Prince Legolas is smitten and quite enamored of the red-headed Silvan.' Kinder Elves had said amongst each other, 'What a prince. He defends his friends to the best of his ability. Of gold is his heart.'_

_ "See to it that the Guard is sent out straightaway." King Thranduil had ordered in an imperious nature, his facial features dead-serious with little hints of rage present about his eyes._

_ "I have already done so…we depart within the hour. We shall find Tauriel and we shall discover the truth…once and for all." Legolas had promulgated in a careful manner, his eyes not leaving his father's eyes._

_ "Le…you are not to go. You are to remain within the King's Hall. You have a fondness for this she-elf and it shall poison your mind towards her." The King waved his hand dismissively, the fingers of his other hand encircled greedily about the regal oaken staff. "This day Hiril Faendis, kinswoman to the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien arrives with her retinue. You needn't concern yourself with trivial matters such as the capture of Tauriel…let Faendis be your concern."_

_ Prince Legolas's response to his father's promulgation not only fills me with happiness but it deeply frightens me. The son who is ever obedient and dutiful to his father, simply declared, "I take my leave now, adar nín. I will not return until I have Tauriel in my company and she will explain to you everything." With that, Prince Legolas, the best and brightest of friends, strode purposefully away from his enraged father._

_ King Thranduil was heard saying, "You will obey and honor me…for I am your father." Prince Legolas paid him no mind and kept on walking. Part of me was frightened by this because I never realized that such a foolish decision on my part could drive a wedge between father and son. I wouldn't dream of ever doing such a thing. Within the hour, Prince Legolas, Laerorn, Brethil, Belegorn, and the rest of the men headed into the forest astride the might elks that they rode…_

Present Day – Emyn-nu-Fuin

Dearest Book,

I have only ever adventured to Emyn-nu-Fuin twice before in my life. Once I did so with the Prince and another time in the presence of Brethil when we were hunting quietly for sport. At first it loomed far away in the trees, the great green hills rising high above the tops of the trees that had lain before us. It was an altogether majestic sight but there was an altogether eeriness existing within this place, a feeling of dread and great despair. Ninimmien and I had set up camp within the forest for we know that should we have chosen to camp in the mountains, we should have been set upon my goblins right away. The goblins here are not too different from the wicked sort that stalk through the halls of Moria. However, we have the advantage as they haven't any idea that we are coming. I am armed with my beloved weapons whereas Ninimmien wields a small sword, and a bow and arrows. I must go. We hear a noise in the trees.

Later…

Ninimmien and I have been utterly discovered. However, not by orcs, not by spiders and not by goblins…rather we were discovered by Prince Legolas and the Guardians of the Forest. When they had emerged through the trees, I was beyond horrified but wished instead that I was a fly…a fly who could hastily escape notice. The Prince ordered the rest of the Guard to give us space, sending them off on silly errands such as searching for firewood or tracking game for dinner. Laerorn was exceedingly cross with Ninimmien and the two of them wandered off back into the woods, towards the east than to the mountains in the west. The foliage of the trees was so thick and the air had a definite chill from the constant breezes of autumn. This was awkward indeed for I sat on one side of the fire whereas Legolas sat not far off to my right, almost across from her altogether, his facial features grave. Most of the time, he had a smile on his face or there was at least a brightness to his eyes. On this day, his eyes were darkened and his seemed worried.

"Tauriel…what is the meaning of this?" He spoke suddenly, his deep voice breaking through the wall of silence that had set in. I rubbed the back of my neck and stared down at my soft brown leather boots as they rested comfortably on the forest floor. Little critters and insects meandered about but I cared not, for I was accustomed to them ever since my childhood.

"I…" My voice caught in my throat and I choked for a moment. I daren't look at him. "I haven't the faintest idea where to start…" For a moment I elevated my eyes to gaze at him, finally having discovered my courage.

"At the beginning…" The tone of his voice was gentle as it always was, his face still kind despite the darkness that had lingered there. "Start there…" An urgency pervaded nearly every aspect of his being, a grave seriousness as well.

"Hîr nín, if ever you were my friend…if ever you have trusted me in the history of our acquaintance, I beg that you listen to my words. I do not ask you to forgive me or to trust me, but rather that you understand why I have done what I have done." My voice was a ghost of a whisper, hesitant and shaky at first but when I saw the hopeful expression present in his face, I felt safe for once. I could always rely on Prince Legolas to make me feel safe and secure.

"Ever since what occurred a fortnight ago…I have been haunted most dreadfully by the truth of my failure. I failed not only our great King but I failed you, too. If I had been a better warrior…if I had struck true that day, Galhanar would never have been spirited away by orcs. Oh my dear friend, I pray you to understand that I have disobeyed your father's orders but only for a good reason. I shan't return to the King's Hall until I have Galhanar with me…until he is safe with his kinsmen." I had begun to feel braver the more and more I spoke, my heart not as fearful as it was initially.

"Oh Tauriel…this is a fool's errand." He breathed, shaking his head slowly as his strands of white-gold hair swayed in accordance with the movement. "Galhanar may yet be dead or worse…" He paused for a moment before continuing. "Corrupted by their Orcish ways."

"Yet I have hope, mellon. Hope that he may yet live peaceably with his father." I responded in the most positive voice that I could muster.

"Û, Tauriel. We return to the King's Hall at first light. We need not tarry in this way…erstwhile we shall get ourselves into grave danger." He declared in an authoritative manner, more so than usual which slightly shocked me but I said nothing. "What were you thinking? You and Ninimmien to hunt down a pack of Orcs? That is lunacy." I had sensed for some odd reason that the way in which he spoke was fraught with frustration, worry. He had been worried about Ninimmien and myself. A voice somewhere in my mind, the voice of fear whispered, 'He was worried for you…because…' I could bear it no more so I tuned such an irksome voice out.

"Surely you did not think that it was a good idea." He continued calmly, his voice as tranquil as always. "To put yourself in danger…and Ninimmien, a maiden who knows very little of our fighting ways. A healer has no place battling with Orcs." I was quick to interject, my tone firm, "Yes…I think it was a very good idea." His face exhibited some sort of astonishment and he studied me carefully, "I had initially thought you to possess better judgment than this, Tauriel."

"Legolas, mellon nín…Galhanar has ever been as a brother to you, one is of your kinsmen and yet you leave him to be stolen away by Orcs. When did you stop caring for the ones that you love? Is your father so resolute to forget one of our brightest and best warriors?" I sighed softly, clearly stubborn as I was not going to cede on this point. "In the annals of time, when it speaks of Galhanar the Brave and his disappearance, will you feel blameless when they speak of him? Or will you feel a confidence in the fact that you at least attempted to help one who is as a brother to you?" He uttered not so much as a single syllable, his face evincing his understanding as he seemed to ponder my words deeply then he nodded. Some of the darkness that was present in his face minutes before had drained away and there was a brightness to him again.

"Very well, Tauriel. You have convinced me. We will search for Galhanar." He spoke, a small smile beginning to form upon his lips – the very same smile that comforted me exceedingly. "However, if we do not find him by the end of Iavas…we must return to the King's Hall." For once, I was able to smile and not want to scream, "Oh allow me to express my gratitude. You have always been such a good friend to me." When I uttered these words, for a moment there was a sad look in his expression, one that I could not trace or figure out.

"Tauriel…there is one last thing…" His voice was steady but his tone was less tranquil than it usually was, bearing some semblance of distaste. "There is a Councilor who has been spinning twisted tales of you. Tales that you slew Caranor…that you have runaway as a fugitive. I let you know that I never believed in such lies…poisonous lies is what they are. I believed your innocence above all else. You are my friend and I will always do what I can help you." We shared a warm smile before I glanced away awkwardly, but I could not help but frown shortly after.

"May I confide in you, Legolas?" I felt strange uttering his name, my tone deeply hesitant. I was rather terrified of conveying to another my situation with that irksome Lord Bregoliâr but I know that Legolas could help.

"Of course…what fills your mind?" He inquired, assuming a rather inquisitive manner as he regarded me carefully. That is what Legolas always did, he asked me that question more than I could count.

"Lord Bregoliâr seeks to defile my name. He does so because I have refused his acclamations of love on numerous occurrences. More than I can count, really. He seeks my destruction because I slighted him publicly and he does not take refusals well. The other day when we were escaping, he struck me because I would not 'be his'. He has gone on in such a way for some time now and I've spoken about this to no one. Ninimmien overheard our exchange but I would not even tell her of it. I figured that you deserved to know why he does what he does." I heaved a sigh as I had finished speaking then took up a stick, poking at the fire which had slowly began to waste away. I daren't look up at Legolas's face.

"Why have you said nothing of this? I will see to it that he is apprehended for treating you thus. You are not only my friend but Captain of the Guard. That is indeed a position of honor…great honor. I will not suffer to see you treated so." He responded, his tone rather furious and straightforward, more so than usual. When I chanced a glance at his sharp eyes, I saw a great fury blazing behind his eyes, so much so that it frightened me so I glanced away.

"Thank you, ernil vuin." I replied like a kindly subject regarding her sovereign prince. When the fury had blazed over and seemed like it had passed, he had spoken once more, "Legolas." That was when he beamed at me. And such was our conversation until we were joined minutes later by our companions who seemed lighter and hearty. Nothing surpasses the wonderful feeling of jaunting through the wood amongst the company of wonderful friends. They lightened the mood considerably.

I will write again when I can. It is difficult to write in my diary being accompanied by the Guard and by Legolas. However, I am glad of it because I feel safe.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translations:

Aran adar nín – My Kingly Father

Adar nín – My Father

Asca – Quick

Emyn-nu-Fuin – Mountains of Mirkwood

Ernil Hîr – Prince Lord

Ernil nín – My Prince

Ernil vuin – Beloved Prince

Hiril – Lady

Iavas – Autumn

Ionneg – My Son

Le – You / Thee

Man – What

Mellon – Friend

Mereth Nuin Giliath – The Feast of Starlight (Mereth en Giliath)

No – Yes

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great

Tolo ned – Come in


	8. Entry VII - A Council Convened

Dear Readers,

I hope that you all enjoy the latest installment. This chapter primarily centers around King Thranduil and I thought it was fun to write something centering him for once. Again, I hope that you all like it. Please leave your comments and reviews because they are very much desired. Thank you all for your reviews that you have left so far. They are very encouraging and very fun to read.

Warm regards,

~Anariel RR

Present Day - King's Hall Throne Room

We Wood-Elves possess the capacity to be mysterious to outsiders with our magic and with our wisdom of the wilds, but for as mysterious as we may be, we possess the ability to at times be as nosy as a town full of Hobbits. I know very little of those little people but I have heard tales and have come across one or two in my travels. They say that Hobbits can wag their tongues like no other but I convey to you that we Wood-Elves possess such a gift similar in nature.

For when the brave and defiant Prince Legolas had departed from his father's presence, showing not only insubordination but disrespect, all of the inhabitants whispered amongst each other. By the time that this situation was 'resolved' (if even that is a fitting word for a wretched transpiration as this), we were regaled with the happenings in our absence. According to Ninimmien's younger sister, Tatharien, the following is what occurred with our mighty King Thranduil. Betrayed as our King was, he immediately convened a council to discuss a course of action…a course of action that could not come soon enough…

"My loyal Council, I gather you here this day to discuss a most grave offense against my royal person. Thou art noble lords with such wondrous loyalty and on this day I seek a means of..." The King in his mightiness promulgated to his council, which comprised of 8 personages, he continued. "...disposal. One such person has taken it upon herself to turn my son against me." He was met only by a heavy mist of silence that hung about in the room, everyone else standing but himself. His sharp gaze shifted from councilor to councilor, his face exhibiting only the most calm one can imagine. To be disrespected by one's own son, one would have envisioned him to be quite furious but he wore a veneer of tranquility before others. Not only was he wise but he was duly as smart.

"Ever has this Elven maiden striven to prove her loyalty to me. She has obeyed every order without word or reproach. Yet when she rises as a star into my good graces, she proves treacherous...and traitorous." His words were heavy still, one could discern that his words had such a gravity to them. "I seek the apprehension of this fugitive and the safe return of my own beloved son." He placed his hand upon his heart as if to further instill the thought in the minds of all present. According to Tatharien, the King could have been an actor in the midst of a play for so well was his dramatic portrayal. Silence followed for none could speak.

"Aran vuin..." Ereghir, original Captain of the Guard from the time of King Oropher spoke suddenly, his voice hearty and husky. To exhibit to others that he was obedient to the King and that he was high in favor, he offered only a head bow, unlike the prostrations of common folk amongst us. "Ernil Legolas dispatched a guard unto us and he rode all the night long on his great elk. At the very break of day, he hastened to my place of slumber and conveyed the message of our most beloved Prince." From all accounts, King Thranduil spun around, his sharp eyes replete with a great fiery rage as he regarded his old friend but notwithstanding the fact that he felt in such a way, he comported himself in a most tranquil manner. Such is the mark of higher rank amongst our kind.

"So…what says my royal son?" He appeared at that time to be distant in such a way that all of his councilors feared recourse. They desired not to cross their great King and quaked at his slightest hint of anger. The King's long clever fingers were encircling his oak staff tightly, his white silk tunic melding quite well with the snow-whiteness of his hair. He looked every bit as majestic as a king ought to have looked.

"The guard simply stated thus: 'I am come at the behest of ernil vuin Legolas. He desires that I make it clear to you and his own royal father that he shall return as soon as he is able to the King's Hall. He wishes to relay to you and to the King that he has indeed discovered Tauriel. He intends to reason with her and they shall return as soon as such a conflict is resolved. That is all that he would tell me, hîr nín.' Such were the words of the young sentinel as he came to visit me at the dawning of a new day." Lord Ereghir held his hands before him in a demure manner, his dark silk robes shimmering as water as he paced back and forth. He was often a man of little patience and the King had a solid ally in him.

"And is that all?" The King inquired, a single eyebrow elevated as he studied his subject rather incredulously. "Ereghir, mellon nín. Do you care to explain to me why the sentinel came to visit you instead of his King?" His voice was calm but his face exhibited very little serenity as it usually did.

"It was a foresight on his part, Aran vuin. He desired not to waken you from your slumber thus he hastened to my chambers instead." The dark-haired lord declared, making a gesture of his hands as he spoke reverentially. The King's anger appeared to be abate from such a truth as soon as it was uttered but, of course, snakes will have their words in the matter.

"My most beloved King, may I approach?" Lord Bregoliâr bowed deeper than the proud Ereghir but came up just as quickly, his eyes boldly studying the King's eyes. The King in truth was taken by surprise when he regarded Bregoliâr but simply nodded.

"You may." Our beloved King returned, offering a simple nod.

"I request that there is justice for poor, poor Caranor. He was ever friend to us all, a spritely sentinel who charmed us all so much with his deep tenor. Now? His body rests upon a mortuary slab…one of the very few amongst us to meet death in over a hundred years. I seek justice for our fallen friend and comrade." He sounded mournful, deeply saddened as he offered his plight up to our just King. King Thranduil's face went through a flurry of emotions but eventually settled on one of peace, "What say you then, Bregoliâr? What action should we taken in such a situation? Our Prince is in the presence of that murderess. What do you advise, old friend?"

"Your Most Majestic Grace, I am ever your friend. I live my life solely to serve you and this realm in all ways that I can. Far be it from me to guide you wrong, my Lord. I seek instead to gently offer a suggestion. I am but a lowly man in thy eyes…but I know something of this Tauriel. She is as wicked as the Orc filth that trod about these lands. She must be apprehended for the crimes that she has committed. My advice, my good Lord, is to send out a host of some of your best warriors. Warriors who have since retired from the ways of battle. Should you wish for them to fight, they would be more than happy to oblige. I advise you to send them out to find our most Beloved Prince. Afore he can be poisoned by the wicked tongue of that evil sorceress, you must find him." Was his impassioned speech and when he was finished, just for dramatic flair, he offered a twirl of a bow. The councilors either regarded him with scorn or were delighted by his performance, but King Thranduil's face was unreadable. Later we would learn that our great King was not so quick to condemn me. Yes, he desired the truth…but he saw that his good friend has an agenda. Nonetheless, sending out a posse of guards to discover us served him better than doing nothing at all. Not to mention that it mollified his wrath.

"Very well, old friend." King Thranduil beamed, his smile mysterious even in the best description but unbeknownst to that snake, he had something up his sleeve. "I will be glad to follow your advice. Lord Ereghir, send our twenty of your best men. Find Prince Legolas at all costs."

Present Day – Four Days from the King's Hall

Dearest Book,

I can write but little this day. It is difficult to scribble down the quick succession of the silly little nothings that makes up my life. At times I feel so full of vigor, hasty to record the day's happenings. However, today? I am reluctant to even grasp the quill in my hand. We travel now in a company of almost 20 men – literally less than half of the Guardians of the Forest. It is enjoyable to have Prince Legolas here as well as Laerorn, who has done nothing but make jokes for six hours straight. Laerorn always jokes that he was born with the gift of sarcasm and humor. Whenever I do not laugh at his jokes, Ninimmien accuses me of being wretched and of having "absolutely no sense of humor whatsoever!"

Before I speak of other things, I will explain what occurred at Emyn-nu-Fuin. It was there that we engaged in battle with goblins of all shapes and sizes. They were short and tall, thin and fat, dark-skinned and light-skinned, snub-nosed and point-noised, and worst of all, their blood got all over us. It was frustrating. What we did was draw them out of the mountains and into the forest. For the most part, they are quite stupid creatures and as fish to a hook they came. We kept luring and luring until we could find such a creature that would participate with us. Whenever we tried to wheedle information out of them, they fought terribly. There was one goblin Urzokk, who flatly refused to help us at first. Knowing full-well that Laerorn was rather good at torturing, let me just say that he "convinced" him to behave. Mind you, we are gentle folk. When one is a prisoner in Mirkwood, we regard him or her fairly, feed him or her well, and even allow the individual time to go climb trees. We have oftentimes been accused of being too lenient to our captives. This Urzokk was frustrating because all he would do is curse at us in his Black Speech. Once he was "convinced", Urzokk told Laerorn the following, "Yes…yes. I saw an Elf. Chestnut hair, angular face, and he was in the company of a band of Orcs. They headed off to the South…speaking of wanting to…corrupt him." The goblin seemed confused by the term then shrugged its shoulders. Laerorn had asserted, "You had better not be lying or I will slit your throat." When Laerorn held the blade up to its neck, the goblin squawked like a spring bird ready for mating.

"The south, where?" Prince Legolas, who had been watching the situation, piped up suddenly. Laerorn made a couple more threats and actually nicked a little of its skin. Ninimmien cringed and later on accused her betrothed of being wicked and cruel.

"Amon Lanc…Amon Lanc." It hissed and squeaked desperately, trying to escape the blade. The goblin had to have been sandy-skinned with an obnoxiously large head and a strangely small body, its nose perfectly pointed. Just looking at it simply annoyed me. Legolas and I exchanged looks. I blinked slowly. What we had remembered of Amon Lanc was that it was the original city that our beloved King had built a long time ago and that we had to leave it because of some wicked sorcerer. I wasn't exactly familiar with the story but I knew it was something like that. Thinking of adventuring to the South of Mirkwood sent a chill down my spine. When we had received all of the information that we could from the goblin, Laerorn did not think twice before he impaled it several times with his sword. I felt sick to my stomach watching its oil-dark blood splattering from its body and collecting beneath it.

Before we had departed from Emyn-nu-Fuin, there was an issue of elks. There were only 18 elks for the 18 males that rode them. However, there was Ninimmien and myself. Ninimmien was initially to ride with Laerorn which left me to have to ride with someone else. Not exactly looking forward to the prospect, I uttered not so much as a syllable.

"Tauriel…" Legolas had spoken my name in his usual deep tone, his gaze flickering over to me as he spoke. "You may take my elk. And I will walk, if it please you." It was a friendly gesture but the thought filled me with astonishment. He is our Prince…I would never suffer to see him walking. Instead, one guard joined another on the great elk and it was decided at the last minute that I would ride with Ninimmien. Legolas and Laerorn would ride alone. I thanked the bright Stars as I held the reins tightly in my hand. Now we are at camp before we journey onwards. I have very little time to write and, when I do, Legolas does that thing that he does. He asks, "What do you write in that book of yours?" I simply smile my nervous smile then offer, "Nothing of consequence." That being said, I had better cease my writing as he regards me now in a studious manner. I will write when I can. I do not savor the idea of adventuring south and it frightens me to no end.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translations:

Amon Lanc – Another epithet for Dol Guldur

Aran – King

Emyn-nu-Fuin – Mountains of Mirkwood

Ernil – Prince

Hîr – Lord

Mellon – Friend

Nín – My/Mine

Vuin – Beloved


	9. Entry VIII - Southward Ho And the Hollow

Dear Readers,

Again, thank you so much for the wonderful feedback. This entry is rather long and you will see the wild goose chase all the characters are on. I sincerely hope that you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. I would love to hear from you. Any questions, comments, thoughts, suggestions, et cetera. Looking forward to hearing from you.

Thank you for your support in my writings.

Warmly,

~Anariel RR

550 Years Ago…

_ "For the love of the stars, Tauriel. That isn't how you hold a knife. You can hold a bow surely yet your attacks are weak." Brethil had pinched the bridge of his nose, staring at me closely, seemingly irked about something. Of what I remember of Brethil, he was eternally annoyed during that time of our friendship. Laerorn, who had been looking on, clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a bout of frenzied laughter. I shot him a quick look and he glanced away suddenly, wearing upon his face the most innocent of expressions as if he was blameless. Ninimmien, who stood beside him, did not hesitate to give him a sharp nudge of her elbow, staring all the while at him._

_ "Man? Brethil speaks the truth." He motioned over to me as I obviously held the sword rather incorrectly, his tone cynical as ever._

_ "How do you expect her to hold a sword if she hasn't the faintest idea how to fight?" She retorted in my defense, the only person there mindful of my inferiority when it came to the arena of battle. We were located a little ways south from the south bank of the Forest River, a place where I learned to fight for over a hundred and fifty years. _

_ "We should not be here." Ninimmien breathed, her eyes oddly alert for some reason as if she sensed something looming off in the distance. Something of wicked make…some evil being._

_ "Am man sen pedech?" I tilted my head a little as I glanced amongst the leafy foliage of the forest. We were in the midst of a most glorious Laer and the sun blazed through the trees in all her fury, determined to touch the forest floor. However, despite the lovely emerald-hued foliage and the flowers of many colors that charmed our eyes, there lingered in the forest something sinister. I felt a chill shiver up my spine and I clutched the sword tightly. I had but little practice with the sword yet I knew upon intuition that something was awry. Something haunted these woods…far to the South._

_ "I ngollor…" Ninimmien whispered under her breath, her sharp gray gaze scanning the woods behind us in a slow manner. The way that she did it creeped me out completely. _

_ "They say that he wanders the southern woods of Taur-e-Ndaedelos…polluting our sacred woods…not only bringing death with him wherever he goes…but that he possesses great dark powers to resurrect the dead." Laerorn answered quite soberly, his generally comical manner vanished from him altogether._

_ "You joke with us, mellon." I cried in response, hoping that it was all a joke. However, when he shook his head and his face remained as stone, my skin felt as goose skin. By now, he would have grinned and been like, "Haha! We tricked you!" He must have read the expression upon my face, for her remarked, "I am utterly serious. There are legends of i ngollor and the great death that he brings with him. Little creatures native to these woods die out one after another after another."_

_ "Thand?" I cried in wonder, my mouth hanging open as if I was an ill-mannered child. Laerorn scowled, "Unfortunately, no."_

_ "'Tis why Aran vín has forbidden to wander thus into such a realm." Brethil piped up suddenly, lacking his usual robust vigor. He looked almost drained as he shook his head, "I have a brother, Mallfast…at least he calls himself thus…is a hermit in the southern woods and he spends most of the time speaking with himself as it is. He claims that the stars speak with him directly…anyway, I am getting off track here. He has seen this creature by himself…a creature in long dark robes, wandering throughout the woods of the southern realm. In accordance with what he saw, he moved off to the northwest so as to escape the pollution of the woods." I shivered at his words._

_ "Why do we converse of such things when we have the glory of a splendid Laer day. The sun glistens as gold and its rays warm our heads. Nature is abloom around us and yet here we stand thinking of dark times." Ninimmien was quick to change the conversation to something else, an uneasy smile present upon her features._

_ "Perhaps that is wise, meleth nín. We need not tarry here long." Laerorn beamed at his lovely maiden with her long flaxen hair that fell abundantly around her like a silver waterfall. He offered her his arm and she took him, smiling warmly at him. We made our way back to the King's Hall._

Present – Southwestern Mirkwood

Dearest Book,

It is a fortnight until the sacred feast of Mereth Nuin Giliath. It seems very unlikely that there is to be a wedding upon that eve for we have wandered a whole day. We have seen neither hide nor hair of Orc filth. There are no footprints and the only way we can discern that they exist is the fact that branches are broken and weeds have been trampled upon. Oh it feels fruitless…so hopeless. When I expressed my frustration in such a way, folding my arms tightly against my chest, Prince Legolas regarded me gravely. It was the two of us standing some part away from the rest of the group. We had been travelling for two days now astride the great elks but we have nothing to go by except the words of some errant malignant Goblin.

"Savo amdir." He whispered softly in my ear. We stood against a tree, our shoulders well-nigh a finger's length from one another.

"I have no hope. If we cannot find Galhanar then I shall have no way of exonerating myself in the eyes of arn adar lín. I hope that he can forgive me. And that you can forgive me, mellon nín. Gin iallon." I slumped a little, trying my best to comport myself but failing miserably in doing so. As if to make my day even worse than it already was, a bird that must have been perched upon a branch above us flew downward at us. It successfully careened down onto my head, flatly missing Legolas, and I scrambled to push it away from me. It squawked, I nearly screamed but it was caught in my throat. Finally I did scream, utilizing my hands to bat it away as best as I could. He was aiding me the entire time, trying to push the bird away but to no avail. Finally it had the good graces to fly away, leaving an enraged me. Unbeknownst to me, the others who looked on started laughing, Legolas was snickering good-naturedly. I sighed. So much for being graceful and a good leader. Not only was I shamed and dishonored to no end, but I was now a laughingstock, something of great ridicule.

"Emlin." He spoke his words gently. He was now beaming warmly at me the way that he does, as a friend does. However, for some reason, I feel that he smiles at me only in that way.

"Besides…" He smiled still at me as he reached a hand forward, hesitant at first but awkwardly swift as he plucked a shard of dry grass out of my hair. I stared at him utterly dumbstruck like some moronic fool, blinking slowly. He laughed his throaty laugh as he spoke the last words, "Tauriel…le gohenon. Always…le beriathon. Ci vellon nîn n'uir. I know that you have done no wrong. You had erred only in your steadfastness in your desire to save a most beloved friend." He whispered those last words gently. I took comfort and solace from them. We were still standing exactly next to each other and I say it now that I was so close to him that I felt his body heat. My cheeks flushed a deep red. I didn't quite know how to react and instead, I drew away a little, gazing off to the west.

"Ni 'lassui, mellon." I smiled warmly at him then motioned towards the others gathered around the fire. "Nan naur menon. Tolathech?"

"No…" He offered a nod, obviously having noticed my standoffish manner. I was inviting but not exceedingly so, wandering away from that tree.

Now as the fire dies down in the night, I have to finish writing now. We shall reach Amon Lanc in two days and I dread it. However, although we face great evil wandering in these lands, all I can think of was the conversation with Prince Legolas. I know not what to make of it. It frightens me. What frightens me more? I ngollor or Legolas?

Tauriel

Two Days Later – A Day from Amon Lanc

Dearest Book,

Two days have come and gone. Last night I attempted to write but I was called away. Again, I was watched by my comrades and friends, especially Legolas. He spoke with me so much yesterday and would not suffer to part from my presence. Thus I am only able to write this day.

Currently we seek respite in the home of the brother of Brethil. He calls himself Mallfast and even though his brother reassures us that his actual name is Haldorn. He is odd and refuses to answer to such a name. In fact, he speaks very rarely, he spends the majority of his time in meditation (talking to creatures that are not there), he swears that the birds tell him the future, and it looks as if he hasn't run a brush through his hair in centuries. He is of middling height (towered over by his brother), as thin as a spear, and he possesses the same chestnut locks as his brother.

"Im Mallfast i ngoll." He had introduced himself but he looked anything but wise. Despite the fact that he lives in such a strange way and that he is eccentric himself, his home is very well-kept and rather comfortable. Although he proclaims himself to be a hermit who lives alone, he has a young Elven maiden by the name of Dumloth who keeps the house tidy and comfortable while he talks to invisible (or imaginary) beings. While he rarely speaks two words together, she can talk the ears off a bat. Truth be told, Ninimmien finds competition in speaking too much as Dumloth can honestly out-talk. When I made a small joke of it, Ninimmien simply gave me a look and uttered the words, "I think that to naught but an easy challenge." Before I continue on with explaining our strange experience here, I will speak a little of Mallfast's home itself. He calls it "I Coll" because it literally is an ancient hallowed out oak tree that looks like any other tree to strangers who wander by. It is deliberately so, for these woods in the south are dangerous. Not only are they dangerous but they are darker. The vast green woods of the north sprawl over leagues and leagues of land whereas in the south, many a tree has met its demise, animals lie dead upon the ground, and yet we have not spotted an Orc. We have spent only one night in this house. For such a beautiful old tree, it has several rooms in which we can relax or seek any slumber.

Now, I must go as the "great" Mallfast requests our company downstairs for a feast. The "feast" last night cannot even compare with the food served to servants in the King's Hall back at the Capitol. I shall write later.

Later this day – Evening

Dinner passed in uneventfulness. We all sat around a large square table with Legolas at one end – the seat of honor, whereas Mallfast presided over the feast in the seat of authority. When we were to sit down at the table, I made my way over to Ninimmien yet before I could do so, I felt a hand light upon my arm. I stared with shock, half-expecting it to be Laerorn who so desired the seat beside Ninimmien his beloved, but it was Legolas. Look some foolish child, I stared at him with my mouth hanging open and I could do little to mask my astonishment. When he had witnessed the astonishment upon my face, Legolas withdrew his hand and smiled an apologetic smile.

"Goheno nin, Tauriel. Guren glassui…pe hafo na enni." He sounded courtly and his tone was so gentle as well as the look in his eyes. He wore a small smile, largely unreadable. His hand was motioning out to the seat to the right of him.

"I 'ell nîn." I declared in an equally courtly manner, settling down carefully into the seat. There were twenty-two of us at the table and fortunately there was enough food to go around. There were times when Mallfast shouted rather uncouthly across the table at Legolas. He was quick to get into the good graces of our most beloved Prince. Legolas accepted all conversation with such grace and such dignity, smiling when he knew to, and making pleasant enquiries when necessary. There were times when Legolas and I would lock eyes for only a moment, exchanging knowing smiles as we both suffered through Mallfast's boorish behavior. One of the men sitting across from me, Ethuilion muttered the words, "Man nogoth." He then gave a roll of his eyes. I smiled at him, giggling at little at his words then nodded in agreement.

"Ethuilion…Mallfast is our host. Show him the courtesy that he deserves." Legolas spoke authoritatively but slightly firm as he then took a sip from his wine goblet.

"No, ernil vuin." Ethuilion muttered dutifully, his face exhibiting his lack of excitement in the fact that he was chastised.

"Ahh the young…" Laerorn, who sat beside me, sighed, shaking his head slowly. "How quick they are to think themselves right in all things." I shot him a quick smirk before consuming a little of leafy salad upon my plate. It was reluctant to eat because the salad was not as green as I would have desired it to be. In fact, the salads in the King's Hall are of the best quality. Dinner ended soon and we adjourned to a grand sitting room where we could gather around the fire to tell stories. By way of looking at the great oak abode, I was quick to think myself inside of a Human home because it lacked the elegance of an Elven place. I retired early, wishing to be away from the others. I have to share my room with Ninimmien but I cannot say that I mind. Legolas announced that we are to leave tomorrow. Tomorrow cannot come soon enough.

Tauriel

The Next Day – Home of Mallfast

Dearest Book,

By luck, we have found Galhanar! Not far from the strange home of this most un-Elfish Elf, we had discovered a large gaping cavern that has been the center of the Orcs. This morning we had set out as we had planned. Mallfast had given us a couple days' worth of food, even if it was mediocre quality at best. We are nonetheless thankful for the great way in which our most benevolent host has treated us.

Unfortunately when we came to Mallfast's home, we had to set loose our elks. If we had left them tethered outside of the oak, we would have placed Mallfast in great danger and we would have drawn attention to ourselves. Therefore, when we set out this morning, we did so on foot. Due to the fact that Ninimmien and myself as lighter than the males, we traveled from tree to tree, swinging from branch to branch in a light and agile manner. This was the mastermind of Ninimmien herself, who declared that we could scout out more territory if we had someone traveling through trees. It was a splendid idea but after an hour of leaping from tree to tree, I had begun to feel very much like an acrobat at some Hobbit or Man Faire. We wanted to scream from loping from one tree to the other when I froze all of a sudden, gripping the branch to steady myself. I was ready to push my body onto the next tree.

"Nini…Daro." I muttered in a breath of a whisper. I glanced down quickly to ensure that the menfolk hadn't caught up with us and fortunately, they were still behind by several trees. Spinning about quickly to regard was rested before us, I saw the dreadful faces of Orcs as they stood outside of a cave. Clearly there was some altercation occurring for one Orc accused the other of stealing his man flesh. I gave a slight shiver at this.

"Go. Give the call!" I was hasty to whisper then witnessed as Ninimmien swung away from me, waiting until she was above the menfolk to give the bird call. Glancing back around, I regarded the conflict closely. One orc was pointy-faced, orange, and his eyes were a nauseating green – he was the taller one. The other one was significantly smaller, large-eared with a scarred face, and one eye looking like it had been cut out. The two were charging at one another.

"Lat!" The Orc hissed in Black Speech, its eyes glowing with rage as it delivered a swift punch into the bulbous belly of the one-eyed Orc. "Golug…ûk izub!" The one-eyed Orc fell back from the impact of the punch but had enough energy to pick his corpulent body up from the ground.

"No…lat…dirty piggy wiggy. The Golug is fors the Darks Lord. You can't eats him." The one-eyed Orc responded, this time, taking his heavy wooden club and attempting to bash it over the head of his opponent. All of a sudden I felt someone nudge me lightly, causing me to give a brief shriek before a hand was clapped over my mouth quickly. I calmed down when I realized that it was Prince Legolas himself. He drew his hand back awkwardly then held a forefinger over his lips, motioning subtly over to the cave. We both froze for a moment in trepidation as we saw the Orcs freeze themselves.

One uttered the words, "Did ye 'ear that?"

"Maybe it's that pretty lil Golug they's been torturin' for days. Let's go see if we can gets a taste for ourselves." The Orcs wandered back into the cave leaving the two of us alone.

"Of what I know of Black Speech…there are two Orcs here who are fighting to consuming an Elf. I know that Golug translates to Elf in Black Speech." I offered hopefully through a very clandestine whisper, leaning away from him a little. Our bodies were close again and I still felt that strange feeling, glancing away awkwardly as if I could escape the oddness of it all.

"Good! Gwêm hi!" He spoke in his generally authoritative manner before he began with his descent from the tree's canopy, skilfully swinging and skidding from branch to branch until his feet rested upon the forest floor. I made the bird call one more time which was our final signal before I too swung about like some squirrel from branch to branch until I was upon my feet. When all nineteen of us were gathered together near an area of tall shrubbery, Legolas spun around to regard his subjects, friends, and comrades in arms.

"These are no mere Goblins…but Orcs who are smarter than average. Do not expect an easy fight, mellyn. Tolo!" He spoke as a true leader and his words were so powerful that we would have followed him even until the edge of doom. Legolas was correct in every way. The Orcs not only were much more difficult to combat than our average Orcs, but they were smarter for some reason as well. When we had made our way into the cave, we found only a hand full left, as we slew the others back in the northern part of the Wood. This time, we lacked mercy in every way – slaying, spearing, and shooting in every way that we knew how. We were well aware of what was at stake and we weren't going to let a good opportunity to pass us by. When we were about to leave the cave, we heard cries of great anguish and pure agony. After some exploring of a side cave into what looked to be a terrible makeshift prison cell, we found Galhanar. It well-nigh brought tears to my eyes. He was stretched out on a rack, his arm nearly out of his socket that we were so apprehensive to move him from his place. Sorrow and horror was written upon everyone's face as we witnessed the gruesome sight. As always, Legolas knew exactly what to do – efficient, quick thinking, and a good leader.

"Brethil…Noro…hasten to your brother's home and convey to him our most grievous situation." His face exhibited some small bit of pain as he shook his head. Brethil was quick to bow, mumble, "No, ernil vuin" then set off at such a pace that it was as if he had vanished into thin air. When that had attempted to move Galhanar from the rack, having removed the rope bound around his wrists and ankles, he cried out in such great pain that I had to look away. I am tough as stone and hard-hearted have I been called. Yet glimpsing such a great young warrior under such pain, it darkens my heart with sorrow. I had to leave the cave for I was shaking.

"Are you well, Tauri?" Ninimmiens soft voice crooned behind me as I turned to face her. My jade green eyes glistened with tears as I slowly shook my head, my entire body shivering. I felt rage…sorrow. Yet the assailants were dead…there was naught I could do to exact revenge.

"No, Ninimmien…please return to the cave. I shall be fine." I replied robotically, gazing off into the distance rather bitterly. The idea of not being able to exact vengeance infuriated me.

"You say that you are well but you are not, my friend. I know the anguish that swells in your breast. Tears sting your eyes and yet you are thrall to your rage." She spoke the words of a wise woman for once, lacking her usual madwoman veneer.

"I said that I am _fine_, Ninimmien." I spoke the words firmly, giving her a serious expression that suggested that I did not wish to be bothered at the moment.

Eventually, Legolas emerged from the cave as well as the 18 other individuals. It looked like they had found a wooden board to put the limp and almost lifeless Galhanar on. All of the males held it and with that, we immediately set back to "I Coll", hoping that Mallfast would welcome us once more. Staying once at one's house is expected…staying twice is tolerated…but staying thrice causes one to be infuriatingly a nuisance.

We had arrived when the sun had sunk in the sky, afternoon having begun as we conducted poor Galhanar to a bed. Mallfast apparently did not mind at all, surprisingly. He played every bit the attentive host and then Ninimmien and myself set to work focusing upon the healing process. We gathered the herbs (including our beloved Athelas and several other weeds), garnered the fresh water, took hold of some towels, and then we spoke the spells over our friend. We had offered a brief prayer before our task. Galhanar's energy was weak and he lay there almost as a corpse. Corpses scare me for they remind me of my own lifeless parents and the funeral at which we had honored their lives. To glimpse a corpse reminds me of that cold, lifeless yet glassy stare that was so evident in my own father's eyes as they brought him into the King's Hall after they had found him. Later on, his eyes were closed as he rested upon soft white cushions. Aran Thranduil spoke beautiful words over his life, honoring his contribution, his splendid personality, and the fact that he was a credit to his realm. I had wept terribly. When it came to my mother, she looked peaceful yet dismally pale – as white as snow but all of the light had gone out of her. Her energy was no longer there. I couldn't bear it. I wanted to go running from the room.

"He responds ill to our attempts at healing." Ninimmien sighed tearfully, shaking her head slowly. "I pray that we can save him." I stared at her and my stubborn side finally surfaced. Turning to regard the incapacitated Galhanar with his ragged breaths, I whisper, "I won't let you die, damn you. Your energy darkens but I will be damned if I allow such a thing. You were made to life, Galhanar. Tolo, mellon. You can do this!" We had spoken the spell two more times before we noticed a gradual improvement in his condition. We were utterly jubilant at this. Our friend is in safe hands and he yet lives. He will stand in the presence of his father and live a full life.

Later

A rider has reached us at "I Coll", bearing news that a small army of Aran Thranduil wander through the woods in search of us. They seek to drag me off and to save Legolas from my enchantments apparently. I was livid when I heard such a thing. When Legolas heard of this, he immediately spoke with Mallfast. We had expected him to turn us away as we have nowhere to go inside of Taur-e-Ndaedelos. We could always go further south or out of Mirkwood completely, but both are not safe or viable options.

"You will stay here of course, as my guests. Any friend of gwador nín is a friend of my own. Please…stay as long as you like." He said most graciously. Now that we are invited to stay longer, I am grateful but at the same time, I am drained. I have every intention of seeking slumber for I desire to dream if even for a little while.

Fare thee well.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translation:

Am man sen pedech? – Why do you say that?

Amon Lanc – Dol Guldur

Aran vín – Our King

Arn adar lín – Your Royal Father

Ci vellon nîn n'uir. – Forever you are my friend.

Daro! – Stop!/Halt!

Emlin – Yellow bird [Yellow Hammer]

Ernil vuin – Beloved Prince/My Prince

Goheno nin – Forgive me.

Gin iallon – I beg of you.

Guren glassui… pe hafo na enni. – My heart is glad[Mostly an appreciative phrase]…if you could sit with/by me.

Gwador nín – My brother.

Gwêm hi. – [Let's] go now.

I coll – The Hollow

I 'ell nîn. – It is my pleasure.

I ngollor – The Magician/Sorcerer

Im Mallfast i ngoll. – I am Mallfast the Wise.

Laer – Summer

Le beriathon – I will protect you.

Le gohenon – I forgive you.

Man? – What?

Man nogoth. – What a Dwarf. [Insult]

Meleth nín – My love

Mellon / Mellyn – Friend / Friends

Mereth Nuin Giliath – Feast of Starlight [Autumnal/Harvest Festival]

Nan naur menon. Tolathech? – I am going to the fire. Are you coming?

Ni 'lassui – Thank you.

Nín – My/Mine

No – Yes

Noro! – Run!

Savo amdir – Have hope.

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great

Thand? – Truth/Truly?

Tolo! – Come!

Black Speech Translation:

Lat – You

Golug – Elf

Golug…ûk izub. – The Elf is all mine.

Izub – Mine

Ûk – All


	10. Entry IX - Blossoming in Autumn

Dear Readers,

Thank you so much for your outstanding and beautiful reviews. Honestly, the reviews alone are so wonderful and so inspiring for a fledgling writer such as myself. For many of you who have decided to read my story, thank you so much. I love to write this stuff and hope that you all enjoy. Although I can't even hold a candle to the magnanimity of J.R.R. Tolkien's elaborate writings, I hope that I at least do the characters some justice. This chapter is a bit of a shift on Tauriel's perspective. You will begin to notice that not only she is changing but her outlook may be doing so as well.

Thank you all so much!

Warmest regards,

~Anariel RR

P.S. – She isn't the only one who is changing. =)

…

Dearest Book,

The stars shine particularly bright in the heavens this night, surrounding the radiant orb within the sky. The beauty of it all arrests me and yet all I can think of is wanting to adventure beyond the Forest. For many years, Taur-e-Ndaedelos has been home to me but my heart yearns for journeying into different climes, different places. The varying different shades of green – emerald, chartreuse, verdigris, sage, malachite, jade, viridian, pine, fir, and beryl. If ever I did leave Taur-e-Ndaedelos, I would lament the loss of these great trees twisted with age, ancient and ominous. To many, it is not even close to being a lovely but a mere echo of what it once was. Now it is polluted with Orc-kind, Spiders, Goblins, and i ngollor. Life here is not what it once was but we Elven folk are reduced to simpler times of having to battle our enemies and the loss of great knowledge. It feels as if we are losing the light, that things are growing darker all around us.

We still reside in I Coll in the very heart of southern Taur-e-Ndaedelos, and as of yet, we are weary to move on. With the latest tidbit of information given to us by Ferlain, the rider who found us here, we are loath to leave as of yet. Galhanar is still rather unwell and speaks very little. The outlook is bleak for us. Just yesterday I found Ninimmien in tears because she knows that we are within a fortnight of Mereth Nuin Giliath and yet this situation is nowhere towards being resolved. With King Thranduil's army pursuing us, we had decided to remain here until Prince Legolas can formulate some sort of plan. Every day (three days in succession), Legolas, Laerorn, Brethil, and I meet in a private room to converse about a course of action. I am by all means now a fugitive and should I meet with Thranduil's army, I shall be taken into custody. The only course of action is for Legolas to return with me to the King's Hall and to speak with his father. Unless he does so, the men have every intention to harm me. I have done wrong after all. Everyone seems to have different opinions. Belegorn, who doesn't like me one bit, suggested that I ought to pay for my crimes by being stripped of my position. No doubt he believes that he should be the one to replace me. Once he had made that suggestion, Legolas, who seemed like he was under a lot of pressure, finally had snapped.

"Farn! Dîn! If you speak naught but those poisonous words. Be gone from this council! Ego!" He spoke the words in the most authoritative tone that I have heard from him in a while. I blanched at his words, my eyes widening slightly. Belegorn, wearing one of his venomous scowls, stood up, bowed his head dutifully then exited the room rather hastily. I exchanged expressions with Laerorn, who seemed astonished as well by the slight outburst of our friend. I wanted to speak to Legolas and to tell him that he needed to calm down, to treat Belegorn better than that. However, to reproach him in public like that was not a well advised idea. Therefore, I remained silent.

When the meeting was over, I was about to quit the room. All of a sudden, I felt a hand lingering lightly over my arm. I glanced up in surprise but somehow I had known it wash him. For a moment our eyes met and I could have sworn that a brief jolt of electricity had passed between us. His piercing gaze met my own shocked gaze.

"Dortho, Tauriel. I wish to speak with you now." He had suddenly realized that his hand was upon my arm and smiled a small smile for a moment. It was not his usual smile of quiet embarrassment but something bolder, more daring. I jerked my hand away, my cheeks flushing a deeper red.

"Of course…what do you wish to speak of?" I tilted my head a little as I witnessed the last of the inhabitants filter out of the room, closing the door behind them. He wore a brown leather tunic with the slightest hints of forest green, dark brown trousers, and matching boots. This was the casual clothing that he wore during informal hunts that we had, not the overly ornate and princely armor that graced his frame during the more formal functions. The room that we were in was a room of paneled white oak, the pale color of the wood brightening the room considerably. At the very center of the room was a circular table at which everyone was previously seated. The only source of light was a great window that awarded the watcher with a generous view of the landscape – a succession of elm trees and birch trees for as far as the eye could see. The foliage of the Iavas was now beginning to increasingly change color, seeming as if they were raining past the window. As a child, I had often wondered why it wasn't referred to as "leafing." It rained and even though one could see that the leaves made their descent, it was all so very blurred by the cascade of rain as it travelled down the length of the window. Legolas was facing that very window, his head bowed thoughtfully as his eyes scanned the view. As beautiful as the trees and the leaves were, we couldn't escape the fact that Southern Mirkwood was poisoned.

"The trees are sick here. Death lingers not far off from the living." He muttered thoughtfully, causing me to wonder if he was sampling musing poetically. However, he soon continued with his reverie, "I hunger for home, Tauriel. I hunger to see the Northern Forests so thick with life, so vibrant. Even in the days of Iavas, the North is something to be envied by the South. We have had ourselves an adventure here. We battled against Orcs, we strayed far to the forbidden South, and we even saved Galhanar. Do you not think it time to return to the King's Hall?" He turned for a moment as he spoke the last sentence, his face grave and serious, his eyes falling upon me as always they do. I glanced off towards the white oaken panels and offered the smallest smile that I could.

"Ernil vuin, mayhap then it is time that we return." I spoke the words robotically, almost utterly devoid of emotion but deep down, I shivered. Could he save me from the rage of the King? He must have glimpsed my face for he drew closer to me and rested both hands upon my arms that rested at my sides. He shook his head for a moment, "Legolas…always you call me by my title. We are friends…why is it that you continue in such a way?" He smiled hopefully, full of warmth as he spoke the words, "Le beriathon. Always. I will allow no harm to come to you. Darathon hain. I promise to you when I speak those words that no harm will come to you." His gaze lingered upon my own a little too longer than I was comfortable with and his hands rested purposefully upon my arms. I stared at him in utter astonishment. Now I am not entirely sure if my mouth was hanging open as if I was so indolent child, but I must have exhibited shock.

All of a sudden, there was a knock on the door. I drew back a little from him, hesitant at first but I did nonetheless. There was something about him that caused me to want to stand in such a way but I daren't think about it. When I glanced at his face, I saw a mild disappointment.

"Minno." He said and all of a sudden, Úrnith entered. She is possibly the only other female outside of myself that is a part of the Guardians of the Forest. She quickly bowed her head then spoke the words hastily, "Ernil nín! Belegorn onur!" Astonishment had registered quickly upon Legolas's face and he shifted his gaze from myself to Úrnith.

"Ir?" He inquired quickly, his face growing rather serious.

"Si, ernil." She blurted hastily, her tone urgent.

"Thank you, Úrnith. You may go." He nodded at her. She bowed before quitting the room altogether. Again, the two of us were left so utterly alone. In the far corner of the room was the great fireplace with its medium-sized blaze and the crackling of the logs. The flames leapt in a mesmerizing manner, swaying about as if they were in the midst of some sort of dance. For a while, all I could do was stare at the fireplace, unsure exactly how to respond. If Belegorn had truly run away then it means that he was going straight to the King's Hall. One solace was the fact that he didn't have an Elk to ride and he wasn't very far ahead of us. How far could a single Wood-Elf get without an Elk and by himself? Since we were in Southern Mirkwood, that means that he could just as easily come across a pack of Goblins or Orcs. He had better hope that he meets the former instead of the latter. Traveling alone by oneself in the woods in a foolish business.

"There is no other choice." Legolas declared as his face went through a flurry emotions and he very much resembled his father in the action. He sometimes had a difficult way of expressing emotions. We were all so well-accustomed to the tranquil smile that graced his fair face.

"I'm sorry. Man?" I tilted my head a little as I regarded him, my reverie having concluded almost instantaneously.

"Tauriel…there is no other choice but to return to the King's Hall. Who knows how far that Belegorn has strayed? He may yet arrive there within three days and we must hasten to reach there as soon as possible." He said in a thoughtful manner, his facial expression rather pensive. "We will leave the rest of the Guard here with Laerorn. You and I will leave together." I seemed almost daunted by the idea of leaving Galhanar behind. He is unwell and cannot be moved until Ninimmien finishes her magic treatments. The Orcs had polluted his blood and poisoned his mind. It appears that those filthy creatures were determined to ruin him completely. The entire thought frightens me. However, we are to leave this night straightaway and I do not exactly relish the idea of being alone with Legolas.

How do I write these words? He is the only one who I have met so far who causes my heart to beat so rapidly and who makes me so very short of breath. There are times when I fear his gaze upon my face, upon me. Yet other times when I linger to have him gaze upon me in such a way. Tonight when he touched me, it felt very much electric. As if I was a tree that was struck by lightning. How can it be that such a man inspires admiration in myself? I have adored him ever as friend but can it be true that something could have blossomed? Could it be that our friendship is that rose tree that blossoms in the very heart of May? Oh I know not to speak these words to anyone. Ninimmien teases me so but I cannot allow another to know my true feelings. I feel these feelings for the Prince but I dare not entertain such thoughts. Such thoughts can lead to grave disappointment. I am so confused as of yet. So utterly confused in so many ways. We leave tomorrow.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translation:

Belegorn onur. – Belegorn ran away.

Darathon hain – I will stop them.

Dîn – Silence

Dortho – Stay/Remain

Ego – Leave/Go away!

Ernil nín – My Prince

Ernil vuin – Beloved Prince

Farn – Enough

Iavas – Autumn

I Coll – The Hollow

I ngollor – The Magician/Sorcerer

Ir? – When?

Le beriathon – I will protect you.

Man? – What?

Mereth Nuin Giliath – The Feast of Starlight

Minno – Enter

Si – Now

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great


	11. Entry X - Whispers at Dawn

Dear Readers,

This is a rather short chapter. Went out on a limb here and had some fun changing things a little.

Enjoy!

Warmest regards,

~Anariel RR =)

Dearest Book,

We left yesterday morning when it was still dark in the heavens. The stars glistened so brightly as Legolas and I donned our cloaks, sneaking from tree to tree as if we were careful little squirrels eager to escape big predators. However, for the most part, all was peaceful and tranquil. We spent most of our travels swinging skillfully by tree rather than walking amongst the canopy of the Forest. For some reason, I felt rather giddy being alone with him. Does that make any sense to write such words? I thought to myself how majestic the feeling was, just the two of us basking in the glory of the very early morning, the many stars in the heavens our only companions. The two of us were rather stressed considering our present circumstances but we seemed to glory in being alone.

"I am glad that we are not accompanied by Brethil and Laerorn. Not to forget that Ninimmien was driving me mad." I laughed quietly, grasping the branch tightly with my hand before catapulting myself into an adjacent tree.

"Yes…" He guffawed a little, shaking his head. "They are all a maddening lot. Laerorn and his jokes are enough to drive anyone mad. Not to mention he thinks he is the best at everything." I shot him a sarcastic glance then tilted my head and remarked, "And you? The most modest of Elves?" He gave me a wry smile, taking hold of that same branch and maneuvering himself onto the same branch upon which I stood.

"Tauriel Dûthalioniel…do you think me arrogant?" He shot a glance in my direction, feigning grave seriousness before a smile took form upon his lips.

"Oh yes…you have the ability to be _quite_ so." I laughed once more, stopping for a moment as I leaned back against the tree. "And I cannot fathom why you would call me by such a name? I am no great lady. Simply as 'common as clay' as your father is so very fond of saying." He leaned against the tree beside me, gazing up at the sky as he smiled amusedly for a moment, "No…my father can be quite arrogant at times. He thinks himself so above everyone else. Such is his nature as it has ever been. I bear the hope that one day he will accept that there is more to unite us than to divide us."

"At least you have your father, Legolas." I blurted out the words and quickly lamented having ever said that, looking away for a moment. However, for some reason, I could not cease with my words, "Yet not a day passes when I do not mourn his loss. He was the commonest of men but possessing of such a golden heart. I hope that I give his memory honor." His eyes, so sharp, so watchful drifted away from the stars that shimmered in the heavens like great diamonds amongst black velvety cloth.

"Do not sorrow, Tauriel. You do adar lín such great honor. Lasto nin…you only dishonor yourself when you speak so. Do not be so cruel to yourself." He breathed, uttering those words softly.

"That is only because I am not bubbling with puffed-up confidence like you do." I joked then gave him a brief cynical look. "It is not as if I have the world at my feet. Do you not have everything handed to you upon a platter by simply being a Prince?" He grinned at this, seeming to think that my words were funny then shot a look in my direction, "That is not fair. I cannot be judged by my rank. I am more than what I am. The confidence that I have is one of my most attractive qualities."

"At least you are _modest_." I returned sardonically, giving a roll of my eyes.

"And you would not prefer me any other way, I think." He shot back sounding all too pompous for my liking.

"You think many things, ernil nín." I replied neutrally, gazing into the sky. The dark navy hue of the early morning sky had shifted all of a sudden to give way to the brightening of baby blue, soft rosy pink, and a majestic purple. It was a lovely combination.

"Legolas." He laughed. Off on the horizon we could glimpse the beginnings of the sunrise, a light shade of red gold that had begun to form around the rising orb. Before long, the young sun was nestled by the tops of the trees, foliage of many colors now reflecting the sheer golden brilliance of the new orb. Together the two of us gazed in wonder. Off to the right rested the remainder of the stars, two in number and shimmering just as brightly as before. Eventually, as the sky grew in the soft forget-me-not blue, the stars faded away, perhaps into another world.

"Oh how I wish that the night would last forever. The light of the sun is warm, yes. But oh those resplendent stars that reign in the heavens…how I love them." I sighed those words, feeling rather foolish after having uttered them. He turned his head to regard me for a moment, smiling as he whispered the words, "Had we just the light of the stars then we would have no dawn. We would have no splendid golden red color in the sky…nothing to resemble the stunning color of your hair." I stared at him incredulously, not entirely sure what to make of his remark. A large part of me was delighted whereas the other part of me (the scared girl) wanted to go run off to somewhere safe.

"Well…I still prefer the light of the stars. The sun is nothing to it. Nothing to the purity and the perfection." I responded after an awkward pause, eager to "brush it all under the rug" (as I have heard humans put it). For a moment he had worn an expression of disappointment but made no remark. As for the rest of the day, very little conversation has passed between us since. We made a couple jokes and spoke of having an "Orc-Killing Contest." We try to ignore the severity of our situation. Eventually I have excused myself but now here I am, scribbling away in the secret book of mine. As inquisitive as he is, he keeps inquiring as to what I am doing. I had better put the book away.

I shall write soon and I pray that there will be an end to this conflict.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translation:  
Adar lín – Your father

Dûthalioniel – Daughter of Dûthalion

Lasto nín – Listen to me

No – Yes


	12. Entry XI - An Uncertain Future

Dear Readers,

It's been a couple weeks since I last wrote this story. This is the latest chapter and I hope that you all enjoy it!

~Anariel RR

Dearest Book,

So much time has passed since I have last written in this book. So many grave happenings transpired in the wake of my return to the King's Hall. Before I continue…I had better explain all that happened thereafter…

It took a total of three days to return to the King's Hall. Legolas and I spent the second night deep in conversation, lost in the throes of the wild of Mirkwood. I say this most truthfully when I state that I felt as if I was under a love spell. It was not love for a single individual that I felt but for everything: being with Legolas, living in the wilds of our beloved Taur-e-Ndaedelos, gazing into his eyes as we laughed at one thing or another, remaining nestled in a pine tree together, swinging about from tree to tree as if we were acrobats, practicing our target practice, engaging in a contest to see who was the best archer (and I did not care that I even lost), and just feeling the energy of nature. The stars were our only companions the entire time – white and bright, watching over us as we hastened to catch up with that irksome Belegorn. On that last night particularly, the two of us were deep in conversation, speaking in particular of what would transpire upon our return to the King's Hall.

"You are a rather secretive one, Tauriel. I have known you since your childhood and yet you are still a mystery to me. Most females I've met talked my ears off or were too frightened to speak to me. You…you speak to me solely when there is something of consequence to say. You always say enough…never too much or too little." He remarked, his watchful eyes settled upon a star that shimmered in the heavens, brilliant and without competition that night. It was so utterly bright that it perhaps rivaled even the moon or at least that was how it felt. His words caused me to blush as I rested my head against the great wide trunk of the pine tree, inhaling its sweet scent of pine needles. It was an altogether unwelcome perfume for it reminded me of my father. Pine trees were ever his favorite – he always spoke of how they provided such splendid concealment. We had just each taken a bite of Lembas bread, something I normally detested ever since my childhood, but it the taste did not even irk me. I felt so jubilant despite the circumstances.

"Man os in?" I breathed, staring up at the same star in a pensive manner, thinking over everything. Once we would return to the King's Hall then I am officially a fugitive of the state and even worse, a traitor to the King. The thought made me cringe.

"You never speak your mind. This I can tell. Am man?" His voice took on that curious tone, the very same tone that affected it when he wanted to know why I do what I do. It was the very same tone of when he inquired as to why a particular person (most usually of the male variety) would look at me the way he or she does.

"Man i theled istad?" I half-said, half-muttered, feeling somewhat sleepy for once. The sort of "sleep" that we Elves engage in is more so rest than anything else. An Elf can gain rest by simply meditating upon an object of beauty or something of importance. However, at times, we will take rest but it is by no means necessary for our living unless we are on the verge of death. The truth is that I desired the prospect of rest for it gave me a reprieve from the monotony of everyday life. It was enjoyable. Before I had realized it, I had blurted the last several words without a second thought. Those were the words that I had never dared to ask him. Words that I was always afraid to utter. He had opened his mouth to speak but before he could do so, I continued, "You do not know this, mellon. But my mother was Aglarlothiel, a great lady of Lothlórien, well-nigh a kinswoman to the greatest of ladies, Galadriel." For a moment, I allowed my own jade green gaze to drift away from the dreamy-like stars and to fix upon him for a moment. I glimpsed a flurry of emotions before an eventual dawning of astonishment, his brow furrowed slightly as he tilted his head.

"How come you have never told me this?" He queried as if this was a topic of the utmost importance. Perhaps it was but I never felt like any others deserved to know it.

"There is a lot about me that you don't know…besides, it never came up in conversation." I added quietly brushing back a strand of golden red hair then spoke once more. "As a great lady, she was tutored by her own illustrious parents in the ways of etiquette and honor. She was noble not only in bearing but in her heart. I can remember her words now…as if an echo in my mind: 'Speak with truth and with honor, for to do otherwise will prove you ridiculous.' That…and my father was the quiet sort. I suppose that I take after both my parents in that respect." I dropped my gaze and smiled wanly, in a nervous manner.

"You…give me cause to want to know everything…every thought that lingers in your head. It is all so fascinating me, an uncovered wild realm of great beauty." His words caused me to blush and I could see by the expression upon his face that he was attempting to maintain a veneer of control. Something had to have been bothering him because it had shown in his eyes as well as in the uncertainty of his handsome features.

"It is nothing of import, I can assure you. I am a simple Sylvan Elf with simple thoughts." I smiled as I remarked wryly before heaving a sigh. His gaze flickered away from me for a moment then eventually returned to my face, his own expression inquisitive if anything, "My thoughts linger upon Laerorn and Ninimmien as well as their union. They are formally betrothed. You are but six hundred years old, Tauriel. How come you do not follow the path of most Elven maidens? Most are..." He paused for a moment as if searching for the correct term. "…motivated by such means. You are perhaps one of the only few female Elves who appear to not have such designs." The question completely caught me off guard and my heart had begun to beat in my chest in such a frenzied manner. I was beside myself with many emotions: sadness, glee, excitement, fear.

"I think this a trivial topic, Legolas." I declared offhandedly then allowed a ghost of a smile to play upon my own lips. "Besides, it is not _I_ who must think of matrimony." I laughed, my tone rather teasing as I uttered the next words, "It is not your own great Father who tirelessly seeks for you a bride? And such a bride that she will be unrivaled in high birth and renown?" Legolas exhibited his emotions completely now and the emotion that I saw was one of distaste. He appeared to show no interest in such a prospect.

"Yes…yes…my father speaks of my royal obligations…of carrying on our line." He spoke hesitantly, his cheeks flushed hot with a deep crimson color. I would have laughed if it were anyone else but his embarrassment warmed my heart.

"You must understand, Tauriel. I am his only heir. His _only _heir." He enunciated the last sentence slowly as if to emphasize the importance of the word.

"Alas that places such pressure upon you, my good friend." I spoke softly, frowning in commiseration. "Yet I dare not to presume to give you advice. It is not my place."

"I desire any counsel that you have to give. You are young yet in years but wiser than you give yourself credit." He spoke kindly. I'm not entirely sure what happened…if he moved closer to me voluntarily or if he had slid by mistake. We were nearly shoulder-to-shoulder, gazing into each other's eyes for a moment. When I had realized that his gaze did not turn away, I flushed a deep crimson and glanced away myself, unsure of how to proceed.

"Thank you…" I breathed without returning his gaze.

"Have you no powerless male so irrevocably under your spell?" Legolas joked. When I chanced another look at him, I saw that he was grinning and could it be that he was flirting with me?

"Not in the slightest…" I returned his gaze for a moment then cleared my throat, gazing off at the star.

"You know Tauriel…you have the spirit of my mother. The same personality…the same iron will. You know that she was the only one to challenge my father and never to face his wrath." He positively beamed as our eyes locked once more. His blue eyes and my green eyes joined together in a moment of warmth. I flushed a deep crimson, the hue of the autumnal leaves all around us, resting in a blanket upon the bottom of the forest floor.

"What was she like?" Was all that I could manage, trying to not let the compliment go to my head.

"At times…I forget my own mother." He declared in nearly a whisper, his gaze downcast as his face exhibited all sorts of emotion. "I remember the image…the silver hair…the warm, engaging smile…and the bright blue of her eyes. Her eyes as blue as forget-me-nots. My father speaks no more of her…as if she had never existed in the first place." Before I had realized it, my hand was resting on his left shoulder and we were both staring at each other in an astounded manner. Quite rapidly, his astonishment melted away to warmth and there was something inviting in his manner. I was about to draw my hand away as if to pretend it never happened but I felt his soft hand over my own. Our hands touched together and it felt so strange. It was like for even a fraction of a moment that we were one – joined together in some odd way. That was when I felt that jolt once more. Glancing down, I removed my hand and suddenly stood up.

"Ni nûr angin…" I breathed, drawing the tip of my finger down the rough earthy bark, thinking of how it resembled parched earth. That was when he stood as well, a small smile upon his face and faraway look in his eyes. When he had settled his piercing gaze upon me once more, he uttered the words that haunt me now, "Sevin le." I froze, not quite sure what to say or how to proceed. Much to my horror, he continued, "An gell nîn…please let me speak. Lasto nin."

"Avo garo…please." I uttered quickly then held out a hand with an outstretched palm as if to stop him. "Excuse me…I must be alone at this moment." Without another word being said, I grabbed hold of a branch and made my way up further into the great pine tree before clasping onto the other branch of an adjoining tree, swinging myself over to it. Once in the other tree, I braced myself against the great trunk and began to cry softly. I don't quite understand as to _why_ I was crying but the tears could not stop flowing. After a little while, it felt as if there was a waterfall that cascade down my cheeks. What was I so afraid of? This, I knew not.

The thoughts that went through my mind are the following: I am so confused. What is he trying to say? How come I somehow know the words that he will speak? What is there to be afraid of?

I daren't dwell too much on some things. I spent the rest of the night alone. When the next day at dawn, Legolas found me without too much effort and he was gentle as if we didn't just have an altercation of some sort.

"Tauriel, tolo."Were the only words that elicited forth from his lips. He wore a smile upon his face but it was a sad one, its light largely dimmed. His eyes exhibited a sadness as well but if he felt so, he uttered not a word.

The dutiful friend and subject that I was, I obeyed and like before, we were travelling from tree to tree. However, the winging, the leaping, and the flipping was not like what had passed before in the pleasant nature. I could scarcely look him in the eyes and knew not what to say.

In a day, we had made it to the King's Hall and immediately we had met with the guard at the great gate to the Hall. He was astonished to glimpsed Legolas and myself. When he glimpsed me, he slid his sword forth from his scabbard, gripping it tightly, clearly an offensive stance and I had expected him to attack me straightaway.

"Daro!" My friend and champion ordered to the guard, who nodded, seeming largely confused, and return the swords to its scabbard. "I go to speak with the King right now." The Guard quickly bowed his head and moved out of Legolas's way.

When Legolas stormed into the Throne Room with me in tow, King Thranduil and two of his advisors were completely caught unawares. However, only one of the advisors actually exhibited shock.

"My Good Royal Father…" Legolas spoke his words in an elegant and authoritative manner, clearly showing his princely rank.

"Ah so it appears that you have returned Tauriel Dûthalioniel to us." The King's face appeared to be as hard and cold, his features etched as if of stone. "She _must pay for her crimes_." His face was grave as he spoke the words with a dramatic flair.

"I have much to tell you of that lies spoken by the poison-tongued Councilor Bregoliâr…" My champion's voice was confident, strong against my silence. I could scarcely speak a word. Knowing full well that I was despised by the monarch who I had served for centuries, I felt utterly terrible.

"Oh, _I am sure_." The King sounded almost cynical but if he was purposely speaking that one, none of us could tell. His face was firm as he motioned towards me, "Guards! Arrest her! Take her straightaway to her chamber." I froze, my entire body going cold. In a moment of passionate frenzy, Legolas extracted his sword from its scabbard, the cold metal so clear that it well-nigh could have been a mirror. He hastened to my side and held the sword out, his determined, piercing eyes settled upon his father.

"No…she stays…" My champion's eyes were a blazing fury and for some reason, it frightened me. However, what horrified me more was the fact that he was raising his sword not only against the guards but figuratively against his father. Under normal circumstances, it would never be in his personality or manner to do such a thing but he is known to be irrational at times. Hot-headed. The guards looked at the King in a befuddled manner, clearly not wanting to cross swords with their Prince. I shifted my gaze between the four figures then placed my right forefinger upon the cool steel of his blade, shaking my head slowly. Fixing my gaze upon the King, "Good King Thranduil, I will comply." The King seemed to smile at this, his eyes exhibiting the fact that he was pleased by the turn of events.

After speaking the words, I held out my wrists, expecting manacles of some sort to be locked around them. Instead, it was rope that was fastened tightly. I daren't look at Legolas's face for I could feel the rage boiling inside of him. I had placed myself in such dishonor and it felt true that I bear the consequence of its weight.

For days and days, I have been locked here within my chamber. I have been visited everyday by Prince Legolas, who promises that he will have me free very soon. It seems that the King will forgive me but that he won't do so straightaway. We are waiting for the rest of the Guard to return with Galhanar. Once the King sees Galhanar, it seems like that is when he will decide what to do with me. For now, the future is uncertain.

All I can do is utter prayers and to wait upon the word of the King.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translation:

Am man? – Why?

An gell nîn – Please [Literally: For my joy]

Avo garo – Don't [Literally: Don't do it.]

Daro – Stop/Remain

Lasto nin – Listen to me

Man i theled istad? – Why do you want to know? [Literally: What is the purpose of having this knowledge?]

Man os in? – What about it?

Mellon – Friend

Ni nûr angin – I am sad for you

Sevin le – I have you

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great

Tolo – Come (along)


	13. Entry XII - Diverging Fates

Dear Readers,

I hope that you enjoy this short little chapter. Some shocking things happen here. That being said, I ask that you bear with me and have patience as I have a bit of a busy schedule. Thank you so much for your support and for your wonderful reviews! You guys make this story so much fun to write! I just love hearing what you all have to say! =)

Kindest regards,

~Anariel RR

Dearest Book,

With terrible decisions come the great gravity of consequences. I never realized that I would feel it all so acutely as I feel now. Even to think of it now, I cannot help but to be moved to tears. Before I divulge more, I will explain all as it had occurred in the past day…

I remained in my bedchamber, tireless and restless, eager to stretch my legs. I was fed well, treated well, and not even a cross word was spoken to me. However, I was now allowed an occasional visitor. My back had been to the door and I was perusing through an old book of maps, gazing particularly at a map of Gondor. When the door was opened, I had thought it to be Legolas, who came often to assure me that he would do anything in his power to release me. It was not once a day that he came, but all of the time.

"Tauriel…" I heard a voice speak my name. It wasn't the usual rich tenor of Legolas's voice but rather the squeaky soprano of Ninimmien who oftentimes drove me mad by simply hearing it. However, this time, my heart gave a leap and I rejoiced instantaneously.

"Mellon…" I cried as I scrambled out of my seat and over to her. We embraced in a short-lived moment of happiness. Tears had begun to flood my eyes and I felt some sort of jubilant elation, but there was a sadness lingering somewhere in my heart. It was the sort of sadness that I hadn't felt since I was but a child and I lost my parents.

"Galu! How are you, my friend?" She squeezed me tightly but soon I saw that there were tears in her eyes.

"The wedding?" I sputtered, scarcely able to breathe. She shook her head and smiled only momentarily, "No…no…it will proceed as planned."

"Then what it is?" I was so panicked, my heart beating a mile a minute. "Pedo! Tell me!" I cried in an anxious voice.

"You are to be released Tauriel. This day, in fact." She smiled momentarily before even more tears began to cascade down trembling cheeks. "But…"

"But what?" I shot back right away, eager to get the news out of her. I was frightened that something had gone wrong. Did Legolas defy his father as I had tried to avoid? Did he do something to arouse the rage of our King? Was Laerorn in trouble? Did someone die? I was beside myself. What could it have been? The fact that I was being freed was a wonderful happenstance but there was a deep element of sorrow.

"But…_you are to be betrothed._" She spoke the words in a hollow, robotic voice. All I could do was stare at her with my mouth hanging open and my eyes gazing off into the distance. What was going on? Had I heard correctly? When I had regained some sense, I simply uttered, "Man?"

"Oh Tauriel, Tauriel." She breathed, her face ashen with sadness. "Ni nûr angin…"

"I haven't the faintest idea how to tell you this…but you are to be betrothed formally…and it appears that the other party has consented." She continued, jabbering on but all I could hear was mumbling, an irksome noise to my ears.

"_Betrothed?_" I cried, well-nigh choking upon my words as I uttered a response. "It cannot be!"

"Yes…it is true. The King himself has arranged it." She declared, her face more solemn than sorrowful at this point. Her bright eyes lacked the sparkle that they usually did.

"Man te?" I closed my eyes for a moment as I inquired, curling my hands into fists as I awaited the answer. I had a deep fear that it would be Councilor Bregoliâr. Very few things frightened me more than the prospect of that.

"Galhanar…" She spoke the name slowly as if she was hesitant to even say it. It was then that I opened my eyes and blinked slowly. Given, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. For some reason unbeknownst to myself, at that moment, my head was filled with Legolas. He was all that I could think about. Did he know already? Knowing his father, he was kept oblivious of it.

"A…pe…pe…avon cared?" I froze, glancing at the fire blazing away in the grate of the fireplace, the elegant designs of the firescreen evident against the marble. There was something hypnotic about the fire and the way that it swayed back in forth in a lazy gait.

"Would you disobey the King?" She spoke the words that forced the dagger of sorrow into my heart. "The monarch whom you have wronged already and who has spared you from exile?"

"Well…when you put it like that…" I muttered cynically, fighting back a barrage of tears that threatened. "Avathon…" I pinched the bridge of my nose for a moment then replied, "I do not love Galhanar. I never could…he is as a brother to me. Moreover, he is not a Silvan Elf…he is Sindarin. Why would the King betroth a lowly Silvan Elf to a Sindarin Lord? It makes no sense."

"It makes sense, Tauriel. _Galhanar asked for you_." She whispered, her face sorrowful once more, her lips pursed together. Eventually, she continued but rather slowly, "The way in which you stormed off searching for Galhanar…it was assumed, at least by most, that you are in love with him. Councilor Bregoliâr strove to blacken your name by saying that you were involved and implicit in Galhanar's abduction by Orcs…that you had arranged this entire thing in some manner. Everyone called him foolish and the best of champions was Ernil Legolas. He fought for you tirelessly…and while you are in here, he paces about the halls, passionate and determined. He will take no rest and no food." I blinked for a moment and glanced down at the tray that one of the guards had given me. It was replete with uneaten food. I, too had gone without any source of sustenance or drink or rest. Eventually I returned my gaze to Ninimmien, "This cannot be."

"It _is_ so." She frowned now, exhibiting her concern. "This night the betrothal will be announced at the Grand Banquet. It will be a banquet to celebrate what we have accomplished against the Orcs. Yet I must go now…please do not fret, Tauriel." With that, she departed from my bedchamber and I was left to do exactly as she bid me not to do. I paced the room, my head swimming with thoughts and my heart beating rapidly, violently. I do not know why but all I could think of was Legolas.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translation:

A – And

Avon cared – I refuse

Avathon – I will refuse

Ernil – Prince

Gallu – Hi [Literally: Blessings]

Man – What?

Man te? – Who?

Mellon – Friend

Ni nûr angin – I am sad for you.

Pe – If

Pedo – Speak/Tell me


	14. Entry XIII - A Memory of Silk and Pearls

Dear Readers,

Thanks again for stopping by and I hope that you enjoy this latest chapter. You are going to meet a new character.

Warmly,

~Anariel RR

"_Oh you dear little thing…" My mother sighed as she glanced at me. For the moment, she had been studying herself in the mirror, the gown that she wore was so purely white that it was as white and luminescent as the first snow of Rhîw. I was bored that day and, with no siblings about me to occupy my time with, I was very much thrown together with my mother. It was a wedding day of a great lady of Lothlórien, Niphredil Alfiriniel and she was of great lineage. The trees were full of merriment and songs of joy that day. Many a song was sung by bards and many a song rendered by the talents of minstrels._

_**Niphredil, maiden most pure,**_

_**Of snow is her soft silken skin,**_

_**The headiness of her allure,**_

_**Causes my mind to spin.**_

_**But alas she is maid no more,**_

_**As he takes up the bridal veil,**_

_**Oh but there is much to adore!**_

_**Yet I have great cause to wail…**_

_**For she loves me not…**_

_**She spares not so much as a glance…**_

_**Oh lovely maid, please give me a thought…**_

_**I beg from thee, naught but a dance!**_

_The bard went on and on and on, sounding like he was desperate with love, but I cared not. I was a sulking child who could scarcely understand the point of weddings. They were stupid in my eyes…I had to dress stupidly in a fancy dress, to feel stiff in my clothing, and everyone acted so stupidly. I mused on the point of marriage and weddings. It seemed all so trivial to me._

_ "Oh Tauriel, love. Do not be so gloomy!" Mother cried as she wandered away from the mirror and over to me. I was flipping the cover of a book open and close, as if that was some sort of amusement for me._

_ "I'm…not…going!" I screeched, my temper flaring up. However, the more that I gazed at my mother, I glimpsed the gown that was so infallibly white, almost as if it was shimmering. The gown was constructed of the softest white silk that I had ever seen and it completely hugged my mother's hourglass frame overzealously. The décolletage fell low past her shoulders but was modest enough where it hid any occasion of cleavage, trimmed with pearls that seemed to shimmer a milky white with tints of pink at times. At the hips of the garment was a gold velvet girdle that spanned from the hips to just about midway up the chest, ending below the bust. To fasten the girdle into place was a large but ostentatious gold belt that had all sorts of designs all over it – designs largely of flowery meadows that reminded one of spring. It hugged her lips tightly and the ends travelled down to about where her calves were. Atop her head was a simple diadem, clearly inferior to the majestic diadem one would see grace the head of Lady Galadriel or Lady Arwen. Even in its simplicity, it was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen. The diadem was constructed of white gold and diamonds but it was so delicate. In its very front was the outline of a lily with a single teardrop-shaped pearl that dangled from the lowest point of the lily. It suspended the pearl in the forehead of the wearer. The rest of the diadem was replete with elegant designs, swirls, little flowers here and there, and a seashell or two. Upon my feet my mother wore white slippers of soft silk, the toes peppered with little diamonds and pearls. She was so elegant._

_ "You will one day wear this dress, Tauriel. One day you will marry…and when you announce the man of your heart to all…you will wear it, too." She beamed. She took off the diadem for a moment and beckoned me over. I dutifully obeyed and meandered over to her. All smiles, she placed it upon my head and when I gazed myself in the mirror, I gasped._

Dearest Book,

I panic…I cannot breathe. There is no sleep to be taken…no respite to be found. I can scarcely think straight and all I want to do is scream. However, screaming is something that I cannot do. I must keep my wits about me. Perhaps there is a logical reason to get out of this. Perhaps there is some way to escape this pronouncement.

Galhanar came to visit me today in my bedchamber. I was busy flipping through a book about the history of the Elves and where they came from. It was something that I read about from time to time but was sometimes boring. This time, I was bored beyond words. When I had heard the door open, I didn't look over my shoulder because I had thought it to be Legolas as he often visited me around that time.

"Tauriel Dûthalioniel…" The largely unfamiliar voice spoke my name as if attempting to capture my attention. Glancing behind me, I saw with astonishment Galhanar. Where Legolas is the luminescence of day, Galhanar is the dusky night with his long blue-black hair and his sharp night-sky eyes. He stood there in his ceremonial armor, inferior to that of Legolas, but it bespoke of his status as well as his ability as a warrior. The chest-plate was spiked in numerous places and his matching gauntlets jut out at the ends. He looked every bit the handsome lord that he was and to other maidens, he would have been desirable. To me? He was utterly loathsome. I could scarcely look at him for I was so enraged. His face long and thin, his eyes intense pools of sapphire.

"Galhanar Helegonion…" I greeted him just a formally, eventually drawing myself to my feet. I could scarcely hide my disgust as much as I tried. I wanted so much to scream, to attack him.

"Man i theled cared?" I studied him coldly, speaking the worlds in the calmest tone that I could muster. "You were ever as brother to me, Galhanar. You know that I love you not. My heart…" I started suddenly but my voice choked in my throat. I was about to say that my heart belonged to another but then I couldn't finish the sentence either. Did my heart belong to another? Was this why I was so utterly broken up about the entire happenstance? For the longest moment, he stood there and studied me quietly, thoughtfully – his sapphiric eyes examining my face as if searching for something.

"Am man ú-gerithon…pedin." He broke off, his deep voice as calm as my own. "We could be very happy together. Love would come…in time. My mother, Midhien loved not my father when she wedded him. Yet in the seven hundred years of their union, their love has grown…deep as roots grow deep…and it bears fruit." I stared at him in horror. He had to have been joking.

"Galhanar, old friend…I am not entirely sure if you understand the words that I speak. I do not wish to marry you…it would be like…I don't know…_marrying my brother_." I uttered the words as serenely as I could but felt the desire to run off again into the forest. If I had never come back and stayed in the wilds by myself, I believe that I would have been happy. I would probably miss Legolas but I would be happy.

"I see you no more as a sister, Tauriel…but as one whom I have grown to adore thus far. You are so strong…so lionhearted and kind. You saved my very life when I fell under the spell of Orcs." He lifted a hand to my cheek and caressed it gently with his forefinger, a rosy blush rising in my own cheeks. It was not a feeling of happiness that I felt…but dread. Instead of brushing his hand away, I simply took a step back and stared at him aghast.

"I did so because _it was my duty_. For the love of the stars…I only did it because I am the Captain of the Guard and I was determined to right a wrong." I nearly sputtered, wanting to attack him.

"Oh dear one…" He spoke the words that caused me to flinch (as well as want to vomit). "You know not how much I have esteemed you for many years."

"Lasto…I will _not_ marry you. I think that I can choose _whom_ and _when_ I want to marry. We would be totally wrong for each other. Besides…you are a great Elven lord…me? The King says that I am as common as clay. That is me. Clay." I motioned to myself, clearly determined to make the point, no matter how long it would take. Galhanar smiled at this, dimples forming in his cheeks as his sensual lips curved upwards. I wanted to scream or at least throw something at him. By I recalled with horror that were I to become betrothed to him, the second nicest gown that I owned was that of my mother – the white silk with the pearls. I thought of myself wearing that – the dress that I had dreamt of for years now made me nauseous at its thought. I was enraged when I thought of my mother and how her memory and her dress were ruined by this terrific happenstance.

"Unfortunately for you…the King has commanded this." He declared a matter-of-factly, folding his arms over his chest. "We are loyal subjects to the King and must obey." He paused for a moment before speaking, "Besides…we shall announce our betrothal once Prince Legolas announces his betrothal to the Lady Gilrin Gwathoniel of Lothlórien."

"Out…" I well-nigh shouted at last, pointing towards the exit. "Please leave…I need to be alone right now." Galhanar smiled once more as if amused by this, "Very well then hiril nín. I shall meet you this night at the banquet hall where we will be betrothed." With that, he left and I was alone once more to wallow in the deep despair of realizations. First of all, the only person I could think of was Legolas. The words of Galhanar echoed in my mind, empty and hollow words that conveyed so much meaning. It was during that time that I threw myself on my bed and wept. Two good friends…driven apart by the bitterness of reality…of destiny. Why would the King command my marriage? It seemed so unlike him, because he never interfered much with my life before. Why would he do such a thing when I have ever been a loyal subject to him? Moreover, it seemed like Legolas and I were trapped again…two diverging fates. He, destined to obtain a new princess and me, destined to be the lady of Galhanar. It was just not to be borne. No matter how much I wept, the tears did nothing to alleviate the rage and sorrow within my heart. Had any come to my bedchamber at that moment, I would have thrown something at them. Thank the lucky Stars that I was alone – alone to grieve, alone to wallow in despair.

It was at this moment that the thought finally had dawned upon me…the feelings that I felt for Legolas could no more be called solely 'friendship.' However, _**I believe that I loved Legolas**_. Love was such an abstract and strange word to me but I realized that I would rather be with him than anyone else in the world.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translation:

Am man ú-gerithon? – Why not?

Dûthalioniel – Daughter of Dûthalion

Helegonion – Son of Helegon

Hiril nín – My Lady

Lasto – Listen

Man i theled cared? – Why did you do it?

Pedin – I say

Rhîw – Winter


	15. Entry XIV - The Steadfast Heart

Dear Readers,

Thank you again for your interest in this story. I am so thankful for all of the wonderful and thoughtful reviews that you all have left me. It really encourages me to write this story! I wrote this particular entry in honor of Valentine's Day (even though I'm a week late)! I hope that you all enjoy! Please please please review! I really love to hear what you all have to say!

~Anariel RR

Same Day – The Hall Outside of Tauriel's Bedchamber

Ninimmien's Point-of-View:

It was a poor business, the way that our King planned and plotted to marry Tauriel off like she was some possession. It is the way of Men and how they treat their Womenfolk, like chattel. It is shameful. We of Elven kind are the Wisest of all beings upon Middle Earth – we are the First born. Yet I felt that there were times when we fell so far from our true natures.

"Tolo ed!" I crooned in a soft voice, trying to mask the excitement in my voice. In truth I felt sadness for my good friend and her sufferings, but I was partially excited. Galhanar is handsome and dreamy, a man of worthy renown amongst our people.

"Oh Tauriel…how stubborn you are." I cried in a frustrated voice. For the past half an hour, I had been entreating her to emerge from her bedchamber, for her to show me how she looked in her mother's gown. It had been centuries since I last saw Tauriel in anything but an ankle length hunting gown, the forest green one she struts around in. To see her dress like a proper lady for once would be an enjoyment but it seemed like she was hesitant to show anyone.

"Û…" I heard her voice moments after the oaken door creaked open. I could see her sharp green eyes peering out from the small space. "I cannot, Ninimmien. I am _not_ her and I do not do this dress any…justice." She sighed.

"Oh be not so absurd." I returned, my eyes brightening as I spoke warm, comforting words. "You are stunning, I am sure." There was a pause because she uttered not so much as a syllable.

"Oh you insufferable thing. Come out already!" I well-nigh shouted at her, ready to throw my hands up in frustration. "I promise you I will tell you honestly of my opinion. We have been friends a long time, you and I. I would never dream of misleading you. So come out before I fetch Laerorn to hack that door to pieces." She laughed at this, the first time I heard her laugh in days.

When she emerged from the room and the door was drawn back from the frame, I glimpsed my best friend – the same young woman who now appeared to me as an angel. She was stunning, her unique golden red hair as it was woven back behind the crown of her head in intricate interweaving of complex plaits. Long red tendrils framed her face, a slight curl to the way that it fell. The rest of her hair was draped over her shoulders, a series of curls, reminiscent of the ever-churning seas. Atop her head she wore the elegant lily diadem, the one that had once been her mother's and it fit her every single bit. The dress was a vision of silk, lace, pearls, and it fell of her shoulder in a delicate manner, causing her to look like one of those great ladies that oftentimes adventured to Taur-e-Ndaedelos. There was a small smile upon her lips, causing her eyes to brighten considerably. She was certainly the vision and it was likely that Galhanar would stop dead in his tracks when he saw her.

Dearest Book,

I feel dead. My own heart captured by such a man that I can never have – one so dear to me that I think him the superior of every male in the world. This night I dread what is to come…I dread the future. An eternity with a man I do not love…there is no greater hell.

Later…

How do I explain what happened? It all happened so fast that it felt as if it occurred within a blink of an eye. Ninimmien came to fetch me at my bedchamber and led me to the Great Hall. We went amid a procession of young women garbed in frocks of the palest white, some bearing pennants, others bearing gifts. At a betrothal ceremony, it is my business to bestow upon my potential groom gifts and to represent my house. Due to the fact that I am of no important lineage, my banners are a forest green, for I am daughter solely of the forest. I gladly proclaim myself in kinship to the Wood Elves who people Taur-e-Ndaedelos and Lothlórien. I am no Sindarin-speaking highborn maid but a simple common as clay maiden of the forest. My betrothal is celebrated with such pomp and circumstance due to my father's previous position as Chief Hunter for King Thranduil and because I am the Captain of the Guard. Something tells me that my days at such a post are numbered. A lady to a highborn Sindarin Lord has no business dirtying her hands with fighting or anything of that ilk. I tremble with horror as the procession makes its way into the Great Hall and King Thranduil's gaze falls upon me. Yet it is not King Thranduil's gaze that frightens me, but that of Prince Legolas, where he sits arrayed in splendor, his white silk tunic exhibiting his sleek build. Upon his head is a princely diadem but upon his face is no hint of a smile. His face is as stone, frozen and devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Yet in his eyes I can glimpse the rage, the fury that boils into one glint of coldness. When his eyes are upon me, I notice an astonishment in his nature, a break from the stone coldness that ruled him moments before. I see his eyes widen further, his mouth agape for a moment as he takes in my form. I feel self-conscious all of a sudden and a single tear streams down my ashen cheek. I am ashen for I am frightened, livid, and other emotions that I cannot describe with words.

A young maiden with a garland of autumnal leaves and late seasonal blossoms proffers me a golden goblet of Dorwinion wine. I can smell the heady aroma. Taking a sip of the wine, I can already feel the beginnings of a headache. I am not entirely sure if it this whole situation or of it is the wine that has a particular hold over me tonight. When I have imbibed half of the heady wine, another maiden appears to refill the goblet and alas I am bidden to drink yet more. Other maidens fling autumnal flowers at me, uttering blessings that my love with Galhanar may bloom like the very flowers they toss at me. Some get caught in my hair, others fall to the ground. There is much laughter, drinking, and merriment to be had. This is when I avoid gazing at Legolas altogether, too frightened to even look at him in the eyes. I know truly that I am not at fault but I feel as if I did something to make this happen. A circle of maidens form around me, Ninimmien one of them as they sing all sorts of songs of blessing, a couple songs about Beren and Luthien, others speaking of the Stars blessing me. I finish the goblet and yet another is thrust into my hands and I am urged to drink yet more. I rarely am inebriated, so that is not a fear for me.

Across the Great Hall, I can see Galhanar's dark head, it bears a silver diadem that bespeaks of his lordly status in Taur-e-Ndaedelos. The pennants that surround him are silver and they bear the picture of a great Beech Tree beneath the Sun. He wears a dark silk tunic that accentuates his muscular build and his face is cheerful as a mixture of people sing to him. Maidens cast flowers upon him, while young men sing graceful songs about the majesty of such a union. When I have had my sixth goblet of Dorwinion wine, the circle of maidens opens and at the same time, the circle of males does the exact same thing. I gaze on in horror as Galhanar appears as if out of thin air and he bows to me a moment before sinking down onto a knee. After having taken a knee, he addresses me, "Tauriel Dûthalioniel, I have watched you afar for many years and have seen that you have grown into such a beautiful maiden but into a warrior of great renown. Guren bêd enni i gi melin a go-vestatham aen. Man gureg bêd?" When he speaks those words, I nearly faint, and if Ninimmien wasn't at my back as my support, I would have done just that. When I gaze down at Galhanar, I glimpse so much promise and so much hope in his eyes – the new beginning of a love match. I blanch. For a moment, I allow my green eyes to gaze over to Prince Legolas, his face white with fury, his eyes dark and lacking their usual luminescence. I can see him clearly, gripping the armrests of his carved wooden chair as he gazes at our scene with such intensity. If he wasn't honoring his father's wishes to be at the feast, I know that he would have stormed out straightaway. When I glanced back at Galhanar, I glimpsed a beautiful silver ring that was clutched so tightly in his hands, its glimmer dazzling me. It had a knot-work all over the band. He grips my hand tightly as he gazes at me in an imploring manner.

"Guren be 'ureg. Na veth min în, go-vestatham!" I reply robotically as I try to ease my fingers out of his eager grasp. Behind me, I can feel a nudge and I spin about to face Ninimmien, who offers me a green pouch. Knowing full well what it is, I drawback the opening and empty its contents (a single silver ring) into my palm. Staring at it languidly, I fight the desire to weep. A beaming Galhanar (one he stands), slides the silver band onto my ring finger and bows his head for a moment to plant a kiss upon my hand. I feel bile rising in my throat, the desire to strike him filling my heart. My hand trembles as I slide the silver band onto his finger, I bite on my bottom lip. I force the falsest smile upon my face, attempting to appear joyful and happy but in truth, I want to escape from the room. I want to be simple Tauriel in the Woods, laughing with Legolas at jokes. At last, Galhanar offers his hand to me and I place my hand upon his own hand. He escorts me onto the dais, near to where Legolas sits brooding in his chair. No smile is to be found upon his face today. When we are at the very top of the dais, cheers are made to both bride and groom. I feel the desire to retch once more, but attempt to mask it all with the biggest, falsest smile yet. Once a new series of cheers and toasts are made, Galhanar announces to all, "Ai odhron adh odhril! Ai muindyr a muinthil! Ai meldir a meldis! Go-vestatham na veth min în!"

A cry of well-wishing and a burst of applause sounds about the Great Hall. Once we are out off of the dais and I am on the floor once more, I whisper to Galhanar, "Excuse me…I will be right back."

I utter the lie, knowing full well what it is. With that, I hasten down the passageways and across the bridge to the grand entranceway with its imposing oaken doors. The guards look at me strangely but let me pass, for I am no longer forbidden from leaving.

With abandon, I sprint into the Woods, not thinking how I am unarmed, not thinking of how I could ruin my mother's gown, and for a moment, it stops me. I ascend into the trees, making my way to that one Pine Tree with its soft needles so warm and so familiar to me. I can feel a crisp autumnal breeze as well as a chill that wasn't there the way before. Winter shall descend upon us before long and I can feel it shift. It is there and then that I sob softly, grabbing my stomach as if I was impaled by some wretched Morgul blade. I would rather that I did. Anything but this…the heartbreak…the indescribable pain that curls itself up in my breast. I want so much to remove the silver band, to fling it off into forest, to let it vanish into nothingness. This would be a most welcome gift.

"Tauriel…" I hear _him_ breathe my name as soft and warm as the late spring winds of May. "Oh Tauriel…I must tell you…" I place my finger over his slightly parted lips before I look him in the eyes and mutter, "I know…I know. I love you, too." His eyes widen as if this is some great epiphany. Without another word being spoken, I close my eyes and move in closer to him. Without a bat of an eyelash, I place my lips upon his own lips. For once, we share a most tender kiss. I feel his flesh against my own and I can feel the warmth. He does nothing to discourage this kiss, but returns it with a passionate vigor.

"Gi melin…gi melin." I whisper once I break the kiss and I allow my green eyes to meet his silvery gaze. His smile is like the sun as it makes its ascent, everything that is hot and fiery. It is infectious. It is because of his smile that I cannot help but smile myself. In this moment, I am able to release all of my fears, all of my concerns.

"Oh Tauriel…" He sighs my name, causing my heart to bubble over with happiness, with love? Was it love? If it was love, I could get used to this.

"Ci veleth e-guil nîn…" He whispers in my ear before he presses his forehead to my own. I feel as if we are one for this moment, joined in something greater than our physical beings, something greater than a sham of a betrothal. At that moment, he then kissed me once more and we passed the night in such a way.

With love,

Tauriel

Sindarin Translation:

Ai odhron adh odhril! Ai muindyr a muinthil! Ai meldir a meldis! Go-vestatham na veth min în – Hail father and mother! Hail brothers and sisters! Hail male-friends and female-friends! We two will marry at the end of one year!

Ci veleth e-guil nîn – You are the love of my life.

Dûthalioniel – Daughter of Dûthalion

Gi melin – I love you.

Guren be 'ureg. Na veth min în, go-vestatham! – My heart is like your heart. At the end of one year, we shall wed!

Guren bêd enni i gi melin a go-vestatham aen. Man gureg bêd? – My heart tells me that I love you and we should wed. What does your heart say?

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great/Mirkwood

Tolo ed – Come out

Û – No


End file.
